Sam & Angela, Angela & Sam
by nowhatdidyousaydude
Summary: You have to grow up at some point. That concept has always been hard for Sam.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Uncharted series

srsly i dont pls dont sue me

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1

Angela

I closed the door behind me, letting my heavy bags slide down my arms. I gave out a sigh, feeling my chest finally loosen.

I loved my job - I really did, but it wasn't the most relaxing thing. It was beautiful, for a moment, when you're at the top of that mountain or laying in the sand on a beach or walking through a richly green forest, but everything else was full of stress. A whole trip could be for nothing if the photos didn't turn out or the moment didn't feel right and I didn't feel like the photos I took did the landscape justice. But that was the whole point. That was why people paid me to take pictures. Because nearly 100% of the time, I did the landscape justice.

I had just gotten back from Peru. I hiked Machu Picchu. I enjoyed myself immensely. I liked my alone time - six days worth; two for travel and four for the hike. I liked the quiet. It was serene. But I had to admit that there was nothing better than being back home.

I left my bags at the door as I walked through the hallway. After the walls opened up into the living room and I saw it empty, my brows furrowed. "Sam?" I walked through the living room and kitchen of our mid-sized, clean house. I walked around to the office space, sliding the doors open. "Sam?"

I walked up the stairs, knowing that if he wasn't up doing something, he'd be in bed. It was late, after all.

I walked towards the door, surprised when Sam was standing in the doorway. I smiled widely. "Sam." I ran towards him, jumping onto him, wrapping my strong legs and arms around him.

Sam grunted, taking a step back to steady himself before wrapping his arms around me and laughing. "Hi, baby."

I shouldn't have been jumping on him. Sam wasn't exactly in his glory days anymore, though the fact that he was more than just a little older than me had never bothered me. He was the most attractive man I ever had met and he seemed young even for his ripe age of 46. He was incredibly physically fit, which he thanked all his years in prison for. He had a rough life and, yeah, maybe he was thirteen years older than me, but so what? I loved the old dude, and I had an engagement ring to prove it. After twelve years of dating, I _should_ have _something_ to prove it.

I hugged him tightly.

I had missed him; his always sarcastic remarks, playful teasing, and his sexy everything. He was incredibly charming and you wouldn't know it at first glance, but he had a big heart.

My body slid and my feet touched the ground as I continued to hug him.

Sam hummed and breathed into my hair. "I missed you."

I leaned away from his chest, bringing my face close to his, a sly smile on my face. "I missed you too."

Sam narrowed his eyes, tilting his head and smirking. "Oh, _really?_ How much?"

I leaned forward, pressing my lips against his. His facial hair tickled my own face. I liked it. I pressed harder into him, showing him what exactly I wanted. The kiss was no longer a sweet 'hello' kiss, just how I wanted.

...

Absolutely nothing is better than a nice, fluffy, Belgian waffle, except for multiple Belgian waffles.

I let the syrup slide over the waffles, not stopping until I felt I had a sufficient amount. I put the syrup down on the table and started in on cutting my waffles into pieces. I felt Sam's eyes on me and I looked over at him. "What?"

Sam's eyes slowly shifted from my plate to my eyes. "Every time I watch you do that, I get a little nervous."

I chuckled, taking a big bite of the sugary goodness. "Why?"

"You're gonna develop diabetes, Ang."

"No, I'm not," I told him, very sure.

Sam held his hands up in defence and leaned back in his seat. A couple of minutes of comfortable silence passed, just the sound of the cutlery hitting the plate and the young man on the TV reporting the news to us.

Sam's eyes stuck to the TV, except every other couple of seconds where his eyes darted to our home phone that was laying down on the other side of the table we were sitting at. I waited a couple more minutes to see what he was up to. He just kept watching the TV _and_ the phone.

I finally reached a point of enough annoyance to ask, "Why are you acting like such a sketch bag?"

He turned to me, brows furrowed at me, my annoyed face matching his. "Did you just call me a sketch bag?"

I nodded. "Yeah, because you're acting like one." I glanced at the phone and then him. "Who's supposed to call, Sam?" I asked in a firm voice. He was going to answer me. He didn't have a choice and he knew that.

 _ring ring -_

We both reached for the phone at the same time. Sam, who leaned over the table, torso and arms much longer than mine, reached the phone before I could even get close. He pressed the green call button and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" He waited a second or two before saying, "Yeah." He then turned and hurried out of the kitchen.

The confusion stirred inside of me, along with a horrible feeling. I couldn't finish my breakfast. I threw away what I wasn't going to eat and put the plate in the sink. I zipped up my jacket and grabbed my work bag. I walked through the house to Sam's office, opening the door to see him sitting in his leather chair. "Sam."

Phone pressed to his ear, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed, "What?"

"Who the hell are you talking to?"

He gave me a dismissive gesture. I shook my head, having enough of him for the time being. I took a big step back, taking the door handle with me. The door harshly collided with the door frame and the loud noise echoed through the house. I jogged out of the house, putting all my focus into work.

The work day had started. Dealing with Sam could wait.

...

I woke up to the handsome anchor man on the TV talking about the weather for the week ahead of us. As my vision focused in on the million dollar smile, I let out a deep sigh, looking around. A finished plate of dinner was on the coffee table and my cell phone was next to it. I picked it up, looking at my messages to see that Sam texted that he would be home in twenty minutes. That was forty minutes ago.

I sat up, feeling the ache of our shitty, but pretty couch. I stood, letting the numbness in my legs subside for a second or two before walking out of the living room and into the hallway. "Sam?"

At the end of the hallway was the front door, and in the front door was a flushed faced Sam, holding a small duffel bag. He looked like he had been caught in the act, simply because he had. "Ang -"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I knew that bag. I knew that look. "Were you gonna say anything to me? Or were you just gonna leave?"

Sam put the bag down and walking over to me, but didn't touch me. He knew better. "Ang, I left a note upstairs and I -"

"A note?" I laughed humourlessly, taking a big step back from him. I couldn't let him stand too close. I could feel the uncontrollable rage building inside of me. "The last thing you ever say to me, in note form?"

"Last thing?" Sam gave me one seriously unimpressed look. "I'm not gonna die."

"No one knows if that's true." I said it firmly and calmly, because I didn't have to prove that point. He knew it was true. This stupid business he seemed to be deeply involved in - it was ridiculous. His thirst for adventure and danger should've been long gone. "Sam, I know you don't want to hear this -" I paused, now stepping forward, putting my hand on his warm face. "But you're not made for this anymore."

"I don't have a choice."

"You always have a choice." The anger was gone, now replaced by a sadness. Sadness that he was going to leave without consulting me about it or telling me about it at all. Sadness that he felt he couldn't share it with me. And sadness that there was always a chance that he would never come back. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I love you." I kissed him quickly and then turned away just as fast. "But you're a fucking asshole."

"Angela!" Sam yelled after me as I walked down the hall. I couldn't see him, but I imagined he looked down at his shoes, using them as an excuse of already having them on not to come after me. If he didn't leave right then, he wouldn't at all. But that was the thing - he always left when he was faced with the choice of taking off his shoes or walking out that door.

I would say things used to be different, but they had always been the same.

 _"I **cannot** believe that you're going through with this!" I walked up the stairs, feeling the heaviness of every step on the stairs. I was stomping, and loudly too. "When will you and Sully learn that there are more able, younger people who can do these dangerous, illegal jobs."_

 _"It's money, Angela."_

 _"It's not worth it, Sam!" I spun around, staring down at him from the top of the staircase. I shook my head. After a years and years of dating, I had experienced more than I had bargained for. I knew that when I met Sam in Portugal, I was going to fall in love with an adventure man, but I never expected these kind of dangerous, underground, sketchy missions._

 _"Angela -" He made his way up the stairs slowly, his big, tentative hand out in front of him, hoping to stop me from spinning around and slamming the door in his face. "I always come back, baby."_

 _"So far."_

 _He reached the top step, but stayed there. He slid his hand around my waist, tugging me close to him. " **Always.** And I always will come back, Ang, if it's you that I come back to."_

 _I pushed him backwards lightly, not wanting him to tumble down the stairs, but wanting him to take the hint. "You're smooth-talking won't work this time. I need to know that this is going to end at some point, Sam." I sighed, turning around and walking slowly over to the bedroom. "I need to know that we are gonna have a future together. Prove that to me."_

 _He sighed, eyes shooting over every inch of my very serious face. "Fine." He shook his head, starting to smile. "Since you're so impatient and demanding, I'll do this earlier than I wanted to." He put his hand in his pocket, pulling out a beautiful, sparkling pear-shaped ring._

 _"Don't propose," I said to him quickly. "That's not fair."_

 _He sighed, slowly getting down on one knee. "I'm proving that we're gonna have a future, just like you asked." He looked up at me, twisting the ring between his thumb and pointer finger, holding it out to me. "So, Angela you hate your last name..." He tried to undo his smile, but couldn't. "Take mine instead."_

 _The smile that came to my face was wide and painful. The joy that filled me was unbearable. I threw myself forward. "Yes!" I laughed, rolling around with him on the hardwood. "Yes, I will marry you."_

And Sam _still_ had left. He waited until the morning. How gracious of him. We had a fight about it for a long time, but it ending up not mattering anyway, because I had that beautiful pear-shaped ring on just the right finger on just the right hand.

I loved Sam more than anything, but since he proposed, he had gone on plenty more trips - more than I allowed, but I knew that he was never going to listen to that rule. He went on more trips I was comfortable with. That was the problem. Because when he disregarded me like that, it seemed like all he cared about was himself, the money, and the adrenaline of the adventure.

And so I went to bed that night, trying to not think about all the things that were going wrong in my life when they were supposed to be going right.

...

I was in the office, doing all the research required for my next trip. I had a lot to plan for Iceland. I was very busy, or at least I was trying to keep myself that way. I kept my coffee cup full on all the tabs on my computer open. I was creating more work than needed, but it made the day go by faster.

"Angela?"

"Yeah?"

My coworker put some papers down on my desk and then put his hand on my shoulder, spinning my spinny chair to face the only phone we had in the office. "You've got a call."

I took a deep breath. I knew I should've been rushing over to the phone to make sure Sam was ok, but I wasn't. I knew I should've been answering every call he made to my cell phone, but I didn't. The truth was that I couldn't handle talking to him. I didn't want to fight with him, which was the only way I saw our conversation going.

"Ang, the phone."

"Yeah, I got it," I said, standing up and walking over to the phone. I took one more deep breath, lifting the phone and pressing it to my ear. "Hello?"

 _"Hey, baby."_

I cleared my throat, trying not to feel any kind of happiness for the sound of his deep, wonderful voice. "Where are you?"

 _"India. Western Ghats."_ Sam sighed on the other line, the sound harsh and sharp. _"It's beautiful here, Ang. You and I will come back here one day."_

"Sure."

Sam stayed silent for a second or two. _"Don't talk my ear off, now."_

I closed my eyes, leaning against the desk and rubbing my face roughly. "I have to get back to work, Sam."

 _"Now wait a minute -"_ He sounded angry now. _"It's costing me a lot of money for this call. I thought you'd want to hear from me."_ His voice turned to a softer, more somber tone. _"I thought you'd be happy to hear from me."_

I bit my lip, feeling the sting in my eyes as I kept them open. I was too afraid to blink - too afraid that anyone in the office would see the tears fall over my cheeks. I didn't want anyone asking about it. "I'm glad you're safe. I have to get back to work now."

 _"I'll call you again soon."_

"Don't," I told him quickly, unsure of where I was headed with that. For the moment, I couldn't stand the thought of him being so far away, so close to death at any moment. It hurt me. And he kept doing it.

 _"Why?"_

"Because I can't -" A tear fell over my cheek. I reached up and quickly wiped it away, setting the phone back into its rightful place. I took a quick breath, setting all my emotions back to square one - a blank canvas, and I walked back over to my desk to finish some pressing work.

...

Sam didn't call. I didn't know when he'd be back, because he didn't call. It had been two weeks. I was glad, but worried. I wouldn't have to have the burning discussion with him about how we weren't going to work if these trips continued. He would try to convince me that they were essential and that they didn't affect us, and I would tell him he was wrong but fall back to him anyway. I couldn't do that anymore. I couldn't do anymore of these dangerous, money-grabbing, secretive adventures.

I didn't know how to tell him that.

And so when I was packing for my trip to Iceland, I found myself packing most of my closet - all the essentials and more. I had lots of friends in Iceland that said I would be more than welcome to stay with them for however long I needed.

My plan was to go there and get the photos I needed. I was going there for work, but if I happened to stay a little while longer, just to relax, take a moment to breathe that wasn't in a house that reminded me of Sam every where I looked - then so be it.

I left a note, in class Sam fashion, as well as my beautiful pear-shaped ring. I didn't want to lose int on my trip. Most times, I didn't wear it, but took it with me. For this trip, I'd leave it. I didn't really want to look at.

Because the truth was I hated Sam because he put me through so much shit with these jobs, but he was the greatest love of my life. I missed him. I hoped he was safe. I hoped he would come back alive, but not to me - not right now. I wasn't ready to have a conversation that might end in...well, the end.

...

Iceland was perfection. There was so much land and so little civilization. Their was the densely populated city of Reykjavík, along with other cities scattered around, but everything in between were vast spaces of pure nature - just a lot of nothingness.

I had done my job - taken all the photos I needed and drove an hour into the next city to send the photos. Now I was sitting back in the tiny house on the hill with the friendliest Icelandic family you would ever meet.

I was sitting at their round, oak table, having a cup of straight green tea, admiring the view from the huge window. I was relaxing. Until the satellite phone that I was required by work to have with me started to ring. It was loud and painful to the ears.

Somewhere in the house, someone yelled, "Angela! Síminn pinn hringir!"She was telling me that my phone was ringing, as if I wasn't sitting right in front of it.

I laughed, picking up the small device, pressing the one button and holding it to my ear. "Halló?"

 _"Angela, it's Dean."_ One of my coworkers. _"Sam came into the office looking for you."_ He was being fast and brief because every minute on the phone was costing the company six american dollars a minute.

But I took my time sucking in a breath.

He was home. He was alive. He was safe.

I felt the overwhelming emotions washed over me. I was feeling too many things at once. I took a second more to regain my composure. "Uh, what did he say?"

 _"He was looking for you. You should call him."_

Knowing that he was safe, I felt no need to call him and talk to him yet, but I had a lot of time to think. A note and my ring was maybe not the best of ways to leave things with Sam. He was probably confused, angry, and annoyed. He deserved an explanation. And I missed his voice.

"Connect me to my landline."

 _"Angela."_

"It'll be quick," I said hastily. "Connect me."

He didn't say anything else. And then the sound of getting cut off and a little bit of fuzz led me to the sound your phone made when it was ringing up a number. My patience was wearing thin with every single ring.

 _"Hello?"_

I sighed in relief. "Sam."

 _"Angela._ " He mimicked my tone. He then took a breath. I imagined he was standing up from his chair at his desk, moving around the room, hands in his dark, greying hair. _"You're in Iceland."_

"I had a job."

 _"How long have you been there?"_

"A week."

 _"It's taking that long?"_

I ignored the question immediately. "When did you get back?"

 _"A couple of hours ago."_ With the time change, he would've gotten back sometime in the afternoon, which meant he wasted no time running to my office to see me. It was endearing and so incredibly annoying.

"What shape are you in?"

 _"A couple of limbs lost, no biggie."_

I laughed, turning my cup full of tea around and around. "Sam."

 _"I got a little roughed up. India's terrain isn't as forgiving as I thought, but nothing out of the ordinary."_ There was silence for a couple of seconds. _"You only left a note."_ Another second of silence. " _And your ring."_

I stopped spinning my mug, hand landing flat on the table, looking at my ringless hand. "I didn't want to risk losing it."

Sam laughed, though there was little humour in it. He sounded...nervous - not a common one for Sam. _"I thought that was you're clever way of leaving me. 'Here's your ring, I'm leaving for Iceland, see you never, asshole. Love, Angela'."_

I pulled my knees up to my chest, looking out at the bare bones of Iceland. The beauty was staggering and refreshing. It was easy to look at and think and lose your mind and time.

I missed Sam. A lot. But it didn't change the fact that the way things were between us were strained.

"We have some stuff to talk about when I get back."

 _"Let's talk now."_

"I can't talk about this over the phone." I tapped the table, nerves growing at the thought of having the dreaded conversation.

 _"Then come home,"_ Sam told me, almost demanding. Again, he took a second to dial down. He spoke again in his rough, yet comforting voice. _"Come home."_

"I'm not done in Iceland yet."

 _"You've got your set of photos. I've seen them myself. They're beautifully done, as always. You **are** done there, Ang. If you want to talk, come home and talk to me. I'll be here waiting."_

The line went dead, the awful vibrating, white noise playing out. I set the phone down, picking up my tea and taking one very long sip.

...

I left my bags at the door, the exhaustion rushing over me. I was too tired to carry them; too tired to walk; too tired to think. My feet dragged against the floor as I walked through the dark house.

All I needed was an ice cold glass of water and my bed.

I flicked on the lights to the kitchen, the figure leaning against the counter causing me to gasp, hand flying to my chest to ensure my heart was still beating.

Sam was leaning over the counter, in just his boxers. He had cuts all over him, some looking slightly more serious than others. His whole body was tan, but looking in rough shape. His face was tired, but clean with a bandage over his eyebrow.

I had seen worse.

He stood straight, looking me in the eyes. "Welcome home, baby."

My hand fell from my chest and I let the jitters come out as I exhaled. I walked over to him slowly, wrapping my arms around him, leaning my head into his chest. "Welcome home to you too."

He wrapped his arms around me tightly, engulfing me in his warm body. He rubbed my back and kissed my head and stroked my hair. His comforting gestures were enough to make my start to fall asleep where I stood. He then grabbed my shoulders, pushing me away from him lightly. "How was Iceland?"

"Great. How was India?"

"Great."

"Can you tell me what you did?"

"Got the tusk of Ganesh."

The legendary Tusk of Ganesh.

I was so tired that I couldn't find it in me to give a suitable reaction. Instead, I blinked, letting my heavy eyes fall before opening them again. "Do I want to know how?"

He pushed some hair from my face, smiling softly. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

I barely managed a chuckle, taking a step away from him. "I'm going to bed."

He latched onto my wrist, pulling me back to him. His grip was firm and determined, and so was his face. "Not until we talk."

I shook my head. "What about?"

"Why did you tell me not to call you? Why did you overstay in Iceland?" He stopped after those two questions, thankfully. He let go of my wrist, crossing his arms over his battered chest. "Why?"

I struggled to breathe. I couldn't think of a sensible answer. "This is hard for me, Sam."

"What is?"

"Everything!" My voice wasn't loud, but it was harsh. I had reached a point where that was how it was going to stay until I could get my point across. Until I could make my train of thought seep into Sam's thick skull. "All these illegal jobs you take to get all of these amazing artifacts. You leave and you always come back all roughed up."

"These are opportunities I can't miss, Ang." He was trying to stay calm so that he could persuade me easier.

"But you never _ask._ You just leave with barely any notice. Have you ever considered how shitty that is for me?"

"You mean like you're little stunt to Iceland?" His calm demeanour was fading. The crazy-eyed, passionate, loud Sam I had always known resurfacing.

"Yes!" My voice was only getting louder. "Exactly like that! Picture that, but every six months. No explanation, barely any calls - I never know what you're doing, how you're doing or when you're gonna come home. I'm always waiting!"

"But I'm back now!" He was yelling now. The redness in his face was apparent, even in the dim light of our beautiful kitchen. "I always come back!"

"But you keep leaving!" I reached the maximum loudness of my voice in the state I was in. I breathed heavily, letting my head fall as my hands found the counter to steady my tired self. "You keep leaving and I keep waiting and I can't do it anymore."

"Baby -"

"No." I looked up at him, begging him not to sweet talk me. "I won't go through it again. I'm done doing this. India was the last straw. I'm done."

The kitchen was silent, other than the crack in Sam's ankle when he shifted on his feet, and then he said, "Angela, I would've never taken as many jobs if I knew I was going to lose you."

"I've always warned you that you would lose me, but you keep doing it."

He looked at me with this incredulous look - as if I had slapped him across the face. "I never thought you would actually leave."

My brows furrowed, very offended. "You thought you're impossible to leave? That I'm too weak?"

"No! No, I -"

"Then what? I could never possibly leave you - why would you think that despite me _telling_ you -"

"I thought we would be together always." Sam's hands found the counters as well, resting his weight on them as he looked down at me, eyes become heavy as well. "That's how I pictured us - together always."

I was so tired in that moment and so tired of the years together that had been spent wasted away because of Sam's need for dangerous adventures. "I can't live always like this, Sam. It hurts too much. I have to be done."

He took a big step forward, toes touching mine. He put his hands on the side of my face, lifting it to make my eyes meet his. "Don't leave me," he asked politely. "Stay with me, Angela." He quickly looked at the counter, reaching and grabbing something. He held my engagement ring up between our faces. "Marry me and I won't take another illegal, sketch-bag job again."

I glanced at the ring and then back again. "If you marry me, you will still venture out. You will do great things. You will accomplish anything you want, but you won't leave on short notice or come back with all these unexplained injuries, or put yourself in the way of danger. You won't take a dangerous, illegal job without consulting me about it first or asking my opinion. You won't be a sketch-bag. Promise me."

"I promise." No hesitation. He never did, really. He didn't wait for my answer as he took my hand and slid it onto my finger. His hands reconnected with my cheeks, pulling me forward to kiss him. Our lips parted for only a second. "I love you. Oh, I love you." He kissed me again and again and then pulled me close, kissing my neck as he held me against him tightly.

He didn't want to let go.

...

Nate and Elena had this incredible set up in their home where you could sit in the house, on two incredibly comfy chairs, in front of two french doors that were usually always open rather than not, and you were looking out onto the most beautiful, blue ocean. The warm air wafted in and the sound of the waves were forever relaxing. Their beach house was amazing. I mean, you walked down the stairs on their deck and your feet were touching the hot, white, sand. Sam and I were quick to come down when invited. Also, we were the best house-sitters in the world.

Nate, Sam, and Cassandra were setting up the boat to go sailing. Elena and I said we would get the cooler ready, but it sorted shifted into sitting on the two incredibly comfy chairs and drinking wine.

"November? Why November?"

I shrugged, swirling my wine around. "I figured a wedding in the winter was suitable. It'll weed out the people that don't actually want to come. And then we can go skiing."

Elena laughed her infectious laugh. She clinked her glass to mine. "Cheers to that. Only took 80 years for you guys to finally set a date."

"I guess we didn't really feel any need to rush," I said. Honestly, it never bothered me how long Sam and I had been engaged, but now that we were talking about the wedding, it was a strange feeling of excitement that kept arising. "You guys will be wrapped shooting by then, right?"

They had some big stint in Cuba, but they would definitely be finished by that time.

"Oh, yeah." Elena nodded, crossing her legs over one another and sinking into her chair. "Definitely."

I nodded my head, sinking back into my chair as well. All the muscles in my body started to relax for the first time in a long time. I smiled, looking out at Sam. He was laughing about something with his brother, looking handsome. My eyes then shifted to Cassandra - the wonderful daughter of Nate and Elena. "Man, she sure has grown."

"Hasn't she?"

I had known Elena for a very long time, and knowing Elena, I knew that her entire life and her entire passion and the the excitement she had was always for filming and reporting. It was her journey. It was her life and her passion. But I had never seen Elena look at a camera the way she looked at Cassandra. Cassandra was truly her life and passion now. It was so warming to watch.

"You're next."

But not warming enough to make me want a child.

I just laughed, twirling the thin part of my wine class on the arm rest of the chair. "That's funny, Elena," I said seriously, earning a laugh from the beautiful blonde. "You and Nate had a kid, why do Sam and I need one?"

"I think you guys would make a great-looking baby."

I shook my head. "I don't need another Sam in my life. This one takes up enough of my energy. He's irrational and occasionally stupid, but I love him. I really wouldn't trade him for anything or anyone." I raised the wine to my mouth, tasting it before even drinking it. It was stronger than I thought. I felt my body get light. "Or maybe I'm just drunk."

Both of us laughed loudly. Nate called for the two of us and we started to stand, each of us taking a side to the cooler and bringing it down the wooden steps. We made it to the beach before we had to lose to cooler to save ourselves.

I regained my balance, laughing along with Elena. Arms came around me to steady me. I placed my hand on Sam's hairy arm, looking over my shoulder at him, finding his face very close to mine. "Hi."

He gave me a knowing look. "Little too much wine?"

"No such thing as too much wine," I corrected.

"That is true." Sam took a step back, grabbing my left hand, barely glancing down at the ring before smirking wildly at me, holding an arm out to the boat. "M'lady."

All of us got onto the boat, setting off to sail on the calm waters. I felt grateful for my life. I felt grateful for Sam. Despite him being a fucking asshole.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Uncharted series

srsly i dont pls dont sue me

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1

 _Portugal_

 _13 years ago_

Supply and demand. Not enough supply and too much demand. In the little bar in Portugal, the demand was very high. The supply? Tequila, whiskey, beer - whatever the demand-er demanded.

The bar was sort of small, close to the water, and very hot. The air in Portugal was warm and humid, but it was only amplified by all of the sweaty bodies. The space was open, allowing for the occasional ocean breeze to cool you down. Under the awning, there were a couple of orange hued lights, bright enough for me to be able to see what I was doing but dim enough to exude a sort of dive-bar feeling about the place. The stools and chairs were all wooden and rotted around the edges and I wasn't completely sure if all the procedures were up to code, but it was slim pickings in this part of Portugal.

Besides, I didn't mind working there at all. It was close to the apartment I lived in with the other girls and it was close to the beach. And despite its appearance, all of the thirsty fellas inside were quite nice - or at least they weren't when they weren't yelling at me for their drinks.

"Duas cervejas! Duas cervejas!"

Two beers, two beers.

I spun around, grabbing two beers by the necks of the glass bottles, pulling the bottle opener from the pouch around my waist, popping off the top of them. I placed them down on the table, taking the money in return and then I looked at the next person. "Para voce?"

The put his big, hairy arms down on the table, taking the cigar from his mouth long enough to tell me he wanted to shots of tequila, which I promptly gave to him, taking the money he slapped down on the table.

The night went on like that for a while. Finally, it was getting much later and all of the men and women in the bar were either sitting down with their full drinks or sitting down with an empty glass, too drunk to get up for another one.

I wiped my hands on my towel, looking over the heads of all the balding, dark-haired men, looking out at the dark waves of the ocean. I heard a swell was coming in tomorrow morning. I was already planning in my head that when I got off work I would shower, nap, wax my board and head out as soon as possible. When I got back from surfing, I could sleep more before coming back to work.

"Ang?"

I looked to my side, seeing that my Aussie friend Nats was holding a beer out to me. I took it gratefully, leaning against the counter that wasn't covered in alcohol. "Thanks, man."

She untied her pouch, tossing it by the staff quarters - really it was just the corner of the bar with a bin where we could put our stuff. She leaned against the counter beside me, one arm crossing over her, the other holding her beer to her lips. She nodded to the waves. "Supposed to be good tomorrow."

"That's what I hear." I glanced at her. "You goin'?"

She smiled widely, displaying her slightly crooked teeth. "Does the sun rise in the east and set in the west?"

Nats was tall and muscular, due to her outdoorsy nature. She said she grew up near the beach in Australia and spent pretty well all of her life in the ocean, on the beach, or up the side of a mountain. She had the body that reflected that, as well as blonde hair the stretched the length of her back, usually tied back. She was a little bit older than me at the age of twenty-four, but I wouldn't have necessarily said wiser. If she wasn't working or surfing, she was drinking and partying. She was a messy roommate too, but she was a lot of fun. Never a dull moment.

She bumped my hip, noticing my drifted mind. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

She stared at me for a moment and then brought her beer to her lips again, gaze shifting back to the water. "Have you talked to your mom?"

I felt the stress return to me in one big wash. I shook my head, recalling our most recent conversation over the phone. "I'm not calling her."

"Little harsh, Angie."

A little harsh, maybe, but I didn't have the time or the effort anymore.

Unlike Nats, I grew up in a house with a small yard, a double-wide driveway, surrounded by other houses that looked exactly like mine. We were a couple minutes out from the city of Albany, New York. I couldn't say I liked it or hated it because it was all I ever knew. When I was a senior in high school, I had already done my bidding and applied to all of the colleges and universities suggested by my parents, but when it came down to choosing, I couldn't make myself. I knew there was a whole world out there that I was never going to see if I put myself through a program that was going to take too many years of my life from me.

When I told my parents I was planning to go to Spain for a couple of months, they told me that my older sister, Tara, who was living in New Orleans, wanted to take me in, help me get a job. When I called Tara and asked her about it, she told me that it was news to her and that she would do it, but only if that was what I wanted. When I told her it wasn't what I wanted, she asked if I needed any money or anything to get to Spain.

My parents had given me as much support as they could force themselves to give me. I knew my father was satisfied enough, with one of his children being a higher-up in a big company, with a husband and a kid on the way. He cared about my future, but he was a lot less pushy with me now that Tara had given him pretty much everything he wanted. My mother was supportive too, but every conversation with her was about my options and about when I was coming home. After a year and a half in Portugal, I was tired of having the same conversation. We had an argument. She stopped calling and so did I.

I wasn't ready to answer all of her questions. I wasn't ready to decide a path in my life. Though I knew nothing was definite and concrete, I didn't want to waste time and money and something that would ultimately leave me unsatisfied. I didn't want to make the wrong choice when it came to serious, future-related things, so I stayed away from making any choices at all.

"You've gotta talk to her soon, man."

I brought my beer to my lips, taking a couple of seconds to gulp down the cold, dark liquid. I rested the bottle on the counter, letting my head fall back as I looked up at the ceiling. "I don't know what the fuck to say to her."

Nats grabbed my shoulders, making me look her in the eyes. "You tell her you've got your shit figured out down here and you won't be taking her shit anymore!" Her accent was heavy and her voice loud. She smiled at the end of her sentence, hand slapping against my arm harshly. "Take charge, kid."

I laughed, picking up my beer again. "Can you take charge of your dishes, Nats? They're piling up."

"For sure, I'll get to it," she said, nodding surely, already making her way to the other side of the counter, soon disappearing into the crowds of people in the bar.

I finished off my beer, wiping down the counters from all of the smelling alcohol. When I saw a man approach, I tucked the towel away, asking them what I could get for him. "O que posso fazer por voce?"

His slicked back gray hair and the terrible Havana shirt he had on made him come off very American. He took the expensive cigar from his mouth, holding it in his hands as his elbow rested against the counter. "Voce fala ingles?"

I tried to conceal my laughter, which came at the sound of his choppy Portuguese. I did smile though, wide and charming, placing both my hands on the counter and leaning forward. "Yes, I speak English."

"Wonderful." He smiled also. He was older, probably fifty something, but he was in very good shape. His face had few wrinkles and his voice was deep. He was very handsome, despite the thick moustache hanging over his top lip. He pointed to the corked board on a near wall. "Those are some nice pictures."

It was a cork board with some photos pinned to it, all of them landscapes of the many beautiful hidden gems of Portugal.

When I only nodded in response to him, he turned back to me, eyes dark but kind. "Did you just get those off of Google or did someone take them?"

"I took them," I informed him. If he wanted prints, he was out of luck. Most of the photos never saw the light of day, mostly due to my perfectionist nature. The ones that I did think were nice enough for people to see just got stuck up there on that board and that was it.

"Oh, you're very talented." He was buttering me up and I wasn't falling for it.

My head tilted, eyebrows raising. "Aren't you going to ask me where I took them?"

"Well, now that you've brought it up..."

I chuckled, untying my pouch from my waist, resting it on the counter behind me. My break was long overdue. I grabbed another beer from the cooler, knowing that I would have a word from my boss about it. "Locals only," I told him, taking the clip from my hair and shaking my head, walking around the counter to a table closest to the beach.

The man sat down with me, leaning far back in his chair, bringing his leg up to cross over his other one. "And you're a local?"

I shook my sandals off, bringing my knees up to my chest, reaching down and rubbing my feet. "I think I've earned it at this point."

I was only twenty-one, but I had been in Portugal a year and a half. All of the shit I had been through and witnessed and still decided to stick around, I had definitely earned the title, I thought.

The chair next to the man screeched against the floor and another man sat down in it. I watched him as he leaned back in his chair, shoulder slumped a little bit. He looked a bit tired, as well as a little bit sweaty.

"Nothin'," the other man said simply. He looked to me, brows furrowing slightly, a smile making way to his face. His teeth were white and straight. "At least I've been doing my part." His big hand held onto his beer that rested on the table as his eyes stayed to mine. "Not sitting here, flirting with a pretty lady."

The moustached man gestured to me, which I could see from the corner of my eye. "She took the photos."

I smiled as politely as I could. "I didn't catch your names."

The older gentleman outstretched his hand, shaking mine gently when our hands connected. "Victor Sullivan."

The other man took my hand into his calloused one right after, shaking it with a little less care. "Sam Drake."

I slid my hand from his grasp, taking the small moment to discreetly look from his chest to his face. "Angela."

I looked between the two of them again, eyes settling on Sam Drake. He was younger, maybe early thirties, and also very fit in the body, as well as handsome in the face. He brown hair was pushed back and away from his face, ending around the nape of his neck, revealing a small tattoo of what looked like a couple of outlines of birds in flight on the side of his neck. He looked like he had maybe shaved a couple of days ago as the short, but dark hairs were growing in on his tanned face. He wore a loose fitting white tee, which hung away from his body as he leaned over, revealing a hard and tanned chest. Tanned, dark hair, dark eyes, and a little less trust-worthy looking than Victor Sullivan.

Sam held out a photo - one of my photos, a rip in the top where it came off the board. He placed it down on the rounded, wooden table gently, tapping his index finger against it. "You took this?"

I picked up the photo, though I already knew I had taken it. I examined the beautiful and lush green surrounded the harsh water coming off the rocks. It was so beautiful. I remember hiking to that spot and how hard and confusing it had been and also how worth it it had been.

I put the photo back down, simply saying, "Yes."

Sam leaned back into his chair, arm slung over the back casually as he stared at me, eyes steady. Again, a charming smile on his face as I felt a heat rise over me. "Locals only, I'm guessing?"

I laughed a little bit, shrugging my shoulders as I looked at the two of them, my eyes once again finding Sam's. "Look, I'm sorry. I told the person who showed me that I wouldn't show anyone else." I sighed, pushing the photo further toward them. "I know it sounds childish but they take their secrets seriously around here."

"How seriously?" Victor reached into the pocket of his terrible, terrible Havana shirt, taking out same paper bills folded together, held by a clip. He placed it on the table, closer to me.

A very quick, very surprising gesture.

That was two months rent for me, just judging by the thickness. It wasn't such an incredible amount that could command the reaction I thought they were probably hoping from me, but it was still a decent amount of money.

I smiled, closed-mouth, a little smugly. "Big money, huh?" My arms crossed over my chest, brows furrowing as the curiosity got the best of me. "Why are you guys so desperate to get there? There are plenty of nice hikes around here."

It was a fantastic spot and it wasn't easy to get to. There were a lot easier, still beautiful places to go.

"Maybe we just really like waterfalls." Sam's voice was deep and playful, eyebrows raised in suggestion.

I hummed and nodded, running a hand over my bare leg as my eyes narrowed slightly at Sam Drake, my smile just as playful as his tone. "Romantic."

Sam chuckled and Victor's finger tapped the bundle of bills. "Going once, kid."

I reached out, taking the money and taking the clip off and rifling through the money, counting carefully while tucking it away enough to not grab the attention of other people in the bar. When I discovered it was in fact two months-ish of rent, I folded it again, putting the clip back over it, tossing it against Victor's chest. "You've got a deal."

They looked surprised that it was so easy. I was surprised I went for it so easy too, but it wasn't like I was getting the lottery here at the bar. I could use that money. Plus, it was a beautiful spot and people deserved to see it, even if it was a pair of men I knew nothing about.

I stood, pulling my shoes back on. "I'll take you a little ways up the trail, but I can't hike the whole way with you." I walked away from them, hearing them stand from their chairs and follow. When I got to the bar, I started to tie my pouch back around my waist, seeing that they were standing on the other side of the bar, waiting for more information. "I'm free the day after tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Sam said, sounding sure.

I gave him a smile, not being able to control the look on my face. "Demanding."

Victor Sullivan, cigar still in hand, said, "Sooner rather than later would be better for us, sweetheart."

I put on a smile on my face, non-cholant when I told him, "Find someone else then." I looked at the man sitting next to them, eyebrows raised. "O que posso fazer por voce?" The man asked for another beer, which I quickly gave to him. When I looked back at Victor and Sam, they were just finishing saying something to each other. "We still got a deal?"

"It's a deal," Sam said simply, voice deep and slightly rough.

"Great." I pulled out two shot glasses, pouring a clear liquid into them that I could've used to clean my kitchen sink instead. "Let's drink on it."

Victor chuckled, placing the fat cigar in his mouth. He took a couple steps away, toward where the bar connected to the cobblestone street. "If I drink that, it'll be a three day recovery." He walked around Sam, hand slapping him a couple of times on the shoulder. "We got shit to do tomorrow, don't forget."

"Heading out so soon?" I pushed the small cup of clear liquid closer to him. "Come on, Victor - one for the road."

He smiled. "Take it for me, sweetheart. And, please, call me Sully."

I picked up the glass, raising it to him. "To you then, S _ully_." I tipped it to my lips, throwing my head back to help the momentum. I put the glass back on the table, shivering as I laughed. "Ooo, that's bad." I opened my eyes, looking at Sam as I grabbed one of the two shots left. "You get to choose what this one is for."

He chuckled, settling down on one of the stools, picking up the other shot glass. He rested his elbow on the table, raising the glass to me. "To Portugal."

I clinked my glass against his, looking over his handsome face. I felt a smile come to my own. "To Portugal." Slowly, I raised the glass to my lips, watching as Sam took the shot first. Once I could see that he swallowed, I took the shot myself.

Sam was unfazed, giving me a lopsided smile as I shivered again. "How long have you been here?"

I took the glasses, putting them down into the sink behind me. I spun around, wiping my hands on my pouch. I felt the harshness of the alcohol warm my body immensely. I sighed, resting my arms on the bar, leaning in, looking over Sam once again. I just couldn't stop myself. He was very attractive. Suddenly, I remembered his question. "About a year and a half."

I couldn't tell by the look on his face alone, but he was leaning forward on his stool, close to me. His eyes were dark, gaze steady. There was still a slight glisten on his skin, even more apparent in the orange glow of the lights by the bar. God, he was hot. My eyes fell down to his hands - big, rough, but inviting, even tempting I dare say.

"Where are you from?"

"Albany. Yourself?"

"Boston."

I hummed. "You don't have an accent."

"I could," he said, voice still low, still rough. "Just say the word." His words slid down my spine in one warming motion.

I chuckled, pushing my thick hair over my shoulder, trying to allow the breeze from the ocean to cool me down. "Have you always been this charming, Sam?"

He shrugged, trying to seem modest. He came off as anything but. "I've had some good reviews over the years."

"Give me your best, then."

Sam nodded quickly, shooting me a look as if to say 'I've got this'. His back straightened, shoulders squared to me as his thick eyebrows waggled over his eyes. "What brought a girl like you to a place like this?"

Smooth.

I shook my head, trying with my best effort to hold in a laugh. My hand raised to my mouth when I couldn't hold it in. I allowed myself a good chuckle and then I took a breath. "I think I'm in love."

His shoulders relaxed, along with his entire body. The act fell away, the charm very much staying put as he continued to look at me for a long moment. He then asked, "Really, Angela, why are you in Portugal?"

"I needed out of New York," I told him, finding even that small snippet annoying to hear. "I know it's typical, but I just needed away from -" My hometown? My parents? My ever apparent need to make life-defining choices? "Stuff." I shrugged, shifting on my feet, feeling the stretch in my sore legs. "What about you? What brings you to Portugal?"

"Sully and I recover artifacts."

"Recover artifacts." I nodded, brows furrowing. "If that isn't the sketchiest thing I've ever heard."

A smile - a mischievous one - appeared immediately. "Danger is exciting though, isn't it?"

If I wasn't sure before, I was now. The way he looked at me made me entire body hot, from my toes to my light feeling head. He was charming, with much practice I assumed. This didn't seem like anything new to him. It didn't bother me. I had also had my fair share of hookups. Working at a popular, beach-side bar in Portugal had its perks - handsome men being one of many.

It was the heat of the night, it was the alcohol resting easy inside of me, and it was the look on his face. If all I had to do was take him up to some trail on the side of a mountain in a couple of days, I was likely never going to see that guy again.

Surprisingly saddened by the thought of not seeing this strange man again, I leaned forward further on the counter, crossing my arms tightly together, feeling my breasts press together in my top. My eyes were pinned to his, which unabashedly glanced down at my chest, which made me smirk. "You like trouble, is that it?"

He responded well, also leaning closer, voice dropping just for the two of us. "You could say that."

"Good." The closer I got, the more of his face I could see, and the more I wished we were already back at my place. "There's plenty of that back at mine."

His eyes went from my eyes to my lips and then back to my eyes. "Right to the chase, huh?" The heat from his body was intense. He was so close, I could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath.

"Is that a no?"

A very small, throaty chuckled came from his mouth. He pressed his lips together, seeming to think for the smallest of moments. "Now I didn't say that."

...

I walked back into my apartment, sighing heavily as I placed my surfboard near the front door, letting the water drip from it onto the dirty tile that was in the living room/kitchen area. I looked in the fridge for a brief moment, feeling my skipping breakfast this morning especially hard in that moment. When there was nothing good, I jogged up the stairs, the sound of my now dry feet slapping against the tile.

When I reached the top of the steps, I noticed one of my many roommates, tugging hard on one of the many windows that didn't latch shut. "It's impossible."

Cara looked over her shoulder at me briefly. "Oh, hey." She returned the bulk of her attention to the window, tugging on it harshly before letting go, standing up straight and sighing, a tight look on her face as she turned to me. "I thought you were surfing."

The waves were a little big for the level of skill I was at and I had forgotten to wax my board, making me slide off more times than I usually would. That made me get tired a lot faster. Plus I was hungry. Safe to say, I wasn't out there for very long at all. I left early in the morning. There weren't any clocks conveniently placed around the house but I suspected it was about noon.

I brought my gaze away from the ocean and back to her, my tired arms crossing lazily over me. "Yeah, just not my day." I nodded to the window. "Why do you need it closed so bad?"

It was always open and no one seemed bothered by it.

Cara grumbled, turning back toward the window, tugging at it yet again. "I can't focus on work -" She tugged hard. "Because of those fucking -" She tugged again. "Loud ass people on the street!" She gave one last tug, pulling the brassy handle off of the window. She held it in her hands, staring down at it for a moment.

I chuckled, watching as she neared a mental breakdown. I stepped forward, grabbing the handle from her. "I'll superglue it back on later." I patted her back. "Don't worry about it."

She took a deep breath, shaking her head and pushing back her short red strands away from her face. "I'm calm."

I tossed the handle on the old, sad and slumped, but very comfortable couch behind me. I pulled my rash guard over my head, placing it delicately on the window sill, hoping the sun would dry it fast. I took one last glance at Cara. "Let's go get something to eat in a bit, okay? Fridge is empty."

"It's Danielle's turn to shop."

"My point exactly." I turned, walking down the hallway. "I'll be ready to go in fifteen." I entered my bedroom, seeing the tanned, lifeless-looking body of Sam Drake still in my bed.

The sound of the door opening made him roll over in my light blue sheets. He took a deep breath, one eye opening as he barely lifted his neck of the pillow. "I didn't know you left."

I chuckled. "Went surfing. Sort of." I walked over to my dresser. The drawers didn't really fit, so some of them didn't close and other ones were hard to open. I yanked on the drawer with my underwear. I looked inside and then glanced at Sam over my shoulder. "I didn't expect you to still be here."

Sam was sitting up, displaying himself from the torso up. The blankets were low enough to make it obvious he wasn't wearing underwear, but he was decently covered. He looked out the window, the light hitting him hard. "I think last night hit me hard."

I was worried once the morning came - the darkness of the bar gone - that I would come to think I made a mistake. I was way off base on that one. In the light, I couldn't remember him looking anymore handsome.

"Yeah?" I turned to face him fully, eyebrows raised, a smile on my face. "Which part? The shots or the sex?" I walked closer, watching him watch me. When I got close enough, his hands reached out for me, pulling me onto the bed. I laughed loudly, soon interrupted by his lips on mine.

When he pulled away, his free hand stroked my shoulder, soft and gentle. His face was so close to mine, he shifted slightly, moving away a little bit to look me in the eyes. "I had a really good time last night, Angela."

"Me too," I said sincerely, reaching up and pushing his hair from his face. "Sam, was it?"

"Ouch." He feigned hurt feelings, but couldn't not smile as he pushed himself off of me, landing on his back on my mattress. I laughed, standing and pushing my long, damp hair over my shoulder. I reached behind me, undoing the strings of my bathing suit top as I walked back over to my dresser, removing my bottoms as well. As I pull my underwear up my legs, Sam said, "No offence, Ang, but you don't seem that busy today."

I walked toward my closet, finding a top that would support my breasts sufficient enough for me not to wear one. I picked it off the hanger. "I was planning on surfing much longer." I pulled the shirt over my head, glancing at Sam to see him sitting on the edge of my bed, pulling his pants on. I took the comb from my bedside table, standing in front of him and combing through my hair. "I knew I would need some sleep and then I would have to work. Tomorrow's my day off. I figured that'd be best."

Sam stood, my eyes now level with his chin. When I looked up at him, he said, "We do appreciate it, you know."

I hummed and nodded, looking him up and down. "So do I." My gaze didn't quite make it back to his face as they stuck on three, small-ish, circular-ish scars on the left side of his stomach. I reached out, tracing my pointer finger along them. "You've been shot."

"Hasn't everyone?" He walked around me, looking for his shirt.

I sat down on my bed, taking his spot, nodding to the corner of the room, at the button up hanging off of my lamp. "Lamp." I watched as he plucked it from the lamp, pulling it over his head, but not before I caught another tattoo on his left shoulder - a hand of playing cards.

Both of his tattoos looked not professionally done, which didn't make me think too much. The gunshots, however, caught me a little off guard. I guess in the darkness and hastiness of last night made me miss quite a few things I was realizing a little too late.

This guy had been to prison.

Another thing I was realizing was that it didn't scare me. The thought scared me, yes, but Sam didn't. I suspected - and really, desperately hoped - it was for nothing too bad. I suspected it was this 'artifact recovery' business.

I knew that they were legal ways of doing it and then more efficient, less legal way of doing things. I knew that people paid big money for strong, skilled men and/or women to go out and find these old things that were worth a lot of money. It wasn't a crazy concept. It was just when people started to say the word 'treasure' was where it started to get a little ridiculous for me. It also lost its appeal when you heard about some of the stuff that happens.

In Portugal, there were too many undiscovered paths. They had been discovered, but not by anyone in the modern age. Since then, those paths had become crumbling and overgrown and dangerous. I knew of some trails that were a death sentence.

Sam noticed my face - the gears turning. He chuckled lowly. "I'm not a murderer or a rapist or a cult leader, if that's what you're thinking."

I placed my hands behind me, leaning back on my arms as I sighed lightly. "Have you been to prison lots?"

"In and out." The expression on his face was a little more blank at that point. I think he was waiting for a reaction from me to know where he was supposed to be at. "Panama."

Central America. I couldn't imagine that was pleasant.

"Was it all for this thing you have going on - the treasure hunting?"

He nodded, taking a couple of slow steps toward me. Once he saw a neutral expression on my face, he sat down on the bed beside me. "My brother and I have gotten into our fair share of trouble doing this."

"What happened to your brother?"

Sam smiled, looking away for a moment, seeming to recall fond memories. "He's got a wife and a company and a life back in New Orleans." His eyes came back to me and he smiled. "Boring stuff."

I smiled too, feeling more relaxed than before. "And Sully's proven to be more useful to you?"

He shrugged slightly, his face coming closer to mine. "If not for his smarts, he _does_ make me look more handsome in comparison."

I leaned forward also, the tip of my nose brushing against his as I smiled wider. "Whatever you say." I leaned away, standing quickly. I reached down and swiped my favourite pair of shorts from the floor, pulling them onto me. I walked over to my door, opening it and looking at Sam. "Coming?"

Sam stood, walking out of my bedroom and into the very sunny hallway. "Kicking me out so soon?"

I walked beside him, headed toward the stairs. "You'll only have to miss me until tomorrow." We walked down the stairs and toward the front door, Sam stopping in the doorway. I looked over my shoulder, yelling into the house, "Cara!" I turned back to Sam. "It's not an easy hike. I'm sure you're prepared for a couple days of hiking." When he nodded, so did I. "I can be at the bar early - around six. We'll take my boss's car and I'll drive you guys out to the area."

Sam nodded firmly. "Sounds like a plan."

I took a big step forward, hand resting on his shoulder as I kissed his cheek. "See you tom -"

Sam's hand came to the back of my head, preventing me from moving too far away from him. He placed his lips on mine and then pulled away very briefly to allow me a moment to adjust, our lips coming together again more comfortably. His other hand rested on my lower back, pulling my hard against him. My other arm went around his neck, pulling us closer together, if that was even possible.

"Oh."

I pulled away from Sam slowly, looking to see Cara at the end of the stairs, watching us in surprise. I smiled at her, untangling myself from Sam. "Ready?"

She grabbed her purse off the table. "If you are," she said, sounding unsure. She walked toward us, saying a polite 'excuse me' as she slid past me and Sam, heading onto the street.

I patted Sam's shoulder. "You can find you way back, can't you?" I looked at him for a brief moment, hating myself for wanting to stay at the house with him. My hand lingered on his hard shoulder, also hating myself for not wanting to let go.

He nodded, eyes forever steady on mine. "I think I can manage."

I walked around him, closing the front door, my bare feet touching the hot cobblestone. I walked a couple steps down the street, seeing the place I had in mind for lunch in sight. I turned back to Sam for a brief moment. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, kid." He was walking the opposite direction, waving his hand lazily. "Tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Uncharted series

srsly i dont pls dont sue me pls

* * *

2

 _Portugal_

 _13 years ago_

The natural lighting in the bar was dimming - a promising sign that my shift was nearly over. The longer time went on, the more exhausted I felt. It started in my shoulders and worked its way down to my feet.

By the time I lugged the garbage to the back door of the bar, I felt like I could barely stand on my feet. I walked out into the small, cement wall enclosed space, using the strength I had left to toss the bag into the bin. I turned around, leaning up against the wall. I took the moment to take the weight off of my feet and to look at the sun setting over the tall cement walls.

Beautiful - it always was. I always thought Portugal would be enough for me, or at least I had convinced myself of that every time I thought about moving somewhere else. I had enough money to move on from Portugal, but I'd practically be starting all over. It was move somewhere else or move home and I didn't know what choice I was supposed to make. I thought about going home to get a job and start a life to settle into, but the thoughts irked me.

On the drive to the trail and well into me leading them to the trail, Sam and Sully had talked a lot about all the places they had been and all the things they had done and seen. I was sure they censored some things that might've put them in a compromising position, had I chosen to repeat these stories. Hearing everything they had to say awoke and itch - the same one I got in senior year - to travel and to explore and experience new things in new places.

I loved Portugal. It had given me so many things I once needed. But maybe it was time to move on...

When the door to the bar opened, I was expecting Nats and a pack of cigarettes. What I got instead was an old friend, cigarette already in his mouth. His dark hair was falling down over his forehead in that effortlessly sexy way.

"Angel, meu amor." He was good-looking, but the smile on his face as he said it reminded me of why we weren't so close anymore. That, and another pretty sizeable reason. "How are you?"

Angel was the closest to my name he ever got and I never minded as long as it came from his mouth.

I pushed myself off of the wall, the ache in my feet still evident as I walked over to him. "I'm good, I'm good. How are _you_ , is the real question. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

The same dangerous smile as his thick eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, querida, it hasn't been so long." His accented voice was deep and intimidating, much like the rest of his tall stature.

"Well, you don't really come around the bar anymore."

Miguel had been a regular at the bar long before I moved to Portugal. Him and his friends being at the bar and me and my roommates behind the bar just turned into all of us becoming friends. Just a group of girls looking to have some fun and then a bunch of handsome, Portuguese men - it didn't take long at all for us to become a friendly crowd. People slept with people and things got messy and sometimes dramatic and it sucked. Miguel and his friends didn't come around the bar as much.

Miguel just offered a chuckle, tossing his cigarette to the ground. "I think we all know why that is."

It wasn't Miguel and I who got messy and dramatic, but us stopping doing whatever it was we were doing was definitely good for both of us - or at least I thought.

I also laughed, wondering if Nats needed my help with anything inside. If she really did, she would come and get me, right? Besides, the longer I could stand outside and talk to Miguel, the quicker the end of my shift would come.

"We were all friends and it should've stayed that way. Just friends, I mean," I told him, echoing that sentence to all of my roommates and now to Miguel. It didn't matter where you were in the world, jealousy was still jealousy.

He nodded like he agreed, his very pink tongue darting over his bottom lip. "I do miss being your friend, you know."

Miguel was incredibly hot and I did enjoy the time we spent together being friends and having sex and what not, but I didn't feel that same attraction that I once felt for him. When things blew up between all of us, he wasn't the charismatic person I had been seeing the whole time.

He had a dangerous air about him simply because he was exactly that. Him and his friends had talked about things that made my skin crawl. They were a part of some gang - one of the many in this part of Portugal. I always thought it wasn't serious and it was just a thing that men did to seem more macho, but the things that they did were very real and very illegal and it didn't really make me fawn all over the guy. When we stopped seeing each other, I knew it was for the best.

So what the hell was he doing here.

"What are you doing here?" I kept the tone light and far from accusatory as I smiled. "You're not gonna ask me to sleep with you, are you?"

To be honest, the only person I wanted to sleep with and thought about sleeping with, I had just sent off to go up the side of a mountain. And I thought about it _a lot_ , like pretty much all damn day.

"Unfortunately not, querida," he told me, walking to be more in front of me than to my side. He walked a little bit closer to me, his frame towering over my own. "I'm on business."

"Business?" I questioned, almost amused. If he was running around for the leader of his gang, why was he trying to sweet talk me? "Aren't you wasting time here with me, then?"

His dark eyes somehow seemed darker in that moment as he reached behind him. I couldn't see but his hand was right near the waistband of his jeans. I wasn't that surprised when he pulled out a gun - I couldn't tell you what one, I had no idea. I had seen him with one in his hand many a times.

"Oh." I watched the gun carefully for a long moment before looking up at him. "I'm the business."

He had the gun lazily at his side, not pointed at me, which made me feel barely better. He still had that devilish look on his face as he said, "All you have to do is talk, Angel, and I won't have to do anything."

If all I had to do was talk, that was what I would do. If I didn't talk, he was going to shoot me? Seemed a little counterproductive, but I wasn't about to point it out.

"What am I supposed to talk about?" I told myself I wasn't scared, but I couldn't help to sweat a little bit. It was a gun, after all, and I knew that Miguel thought he was really tough. I knew he had the guts to shoot me if it meant being as tough as he could be.

"Don't be nervous," he said to me. Not really helpful. "I just want to know about the two guys you were seen with at the bar a couple of days ago."

When he didn't say anything else, I shrugged my shoulders. "A lot of guys in the bar, Miguel."

There was a little crack in him which shook me a little. He stared down at me. The cold was just rolling off of him, especially now that the sun was going down. "Don't be smart. You know who I'm talking about."

The only two men that had ever stood out to me were the two guys who had given me a wad of cash to take them to some mountain; Sully and Sam.

I didn't really know what direction Miguel was headed, but I guessed it had something to do with treasure hunting. If Miguel and his gang were as greedy and desperate for money and bragging rights as I remembered, that would've been the perfect gig for them. If Miguel was here talking to me, it seemed they were a couple of steps behind.

"What?" I put on my best confused face, slowly fading back into a relaxed expression. "The two American guys from a couple of days ago?" Miguel nodded and I continued. "They ripped a couple of photos from the corked board and asked a couple of questions. I answered."

"You just gave them the answers? No fight?" Miguel shook his hand the was holding the gun, almost like a twitch. "You just told them where you took the photos?"

"Why wouldn't I? Free country."

He held up a couple of my photos. One of the was the same photo that Sully and Sam questioned me about. "Did you tell them about any of these?" My moment of silence that I took to think made a smile grow onto his face, but it didn't come off as friendly in the slightest. "I thought these were our special spots." The smile disappeared as quickly as it came. "You told me you wouldn't tell anyone."

"What is this about?" That was all I really had at that point.

"You already know."

"How would I possibly know?"

"Don't play this game with me!" Another crack in him as he took a big step forward, eyes wide and crazy. He was so good when he was good, but when he wasn't good, he was almost unhinged. He took a breath, eyelids relaxing over his eyes to become a bit less insane. "Cara and I did some catching up."

"And what?" I was surprised by myself that it came out angry. I never considered myself an angry person, but now that I was thinking about it, the emotions I was feeling in that moment were all connected to being pissed off. I was annoyed and feeling cornered and I didn't like it.

"And the American didn't tell you who he was when you were in bed together?"

I was still angry and still annoyed. "Not exactly lots of talkin-"

He lifted the gun, but didn't do what I was expecting. Instead of the gun being pointed at me, he struck me on my cheek. I was so unprepared for that and the gun was so harsh against my face that I fell to the ground.

The pain pulsed and throbbed as I held my hand up to my face, pressing my palm into it to make sure my cheekbone was still there. It felt a little bit numb, but it was definitely still there. I groaned loudly, pushing off the ground enough to look up at him. "What the fuck..."

"Give me straight answers."

I rolled onto my back. My face was fucking hurting, but laying down felt too good to stand up. "I don't know what he does or what this is about or what the fuck is going on!"

I'm sure the anger in my voice was good for covering any part of that that might've sounded like a lie. Plus, I had a pretty good track record of never lying, at least as far as Miguel knew. I tried to never lie, mostly because I didn't really see a point in it. If you were caught in a lie, you looked a lot dumber than if you had just told the truth in the first place and that fact was enough to keep me from lying.

I never lied, but I couldn't let Miguel know where Sam and Sully were. I just couldn't. I didn't even have to think about it before I said what I said. I did not want the risk the lives of two people I very much wanted to stay alive. If Miguel wanted to know where they were, he wasn't going to get it from me.

Miguel, standing over me, tucked his gun back into his waistband. "You're just as useless as I thought you would be." He reached down, pulling me up by a harsh grip on my arm. He yanked my hand away from my face, observing the damage. "Could be a hard fall. Maybe you fell off your bike. Or you were trying to break up a bar fight." He took a small step back, putting his hand to my unhurt cheek. "Whichever you like best, querida." And then he turned and walked back into the bar.

Mu shift had probably ended a couple of minutes ago, but I wasn't going walking through the bar until the sun went completely down. The darkness would help me hide what I wanted to avoid having to explain.

So I waited in the small area outside, the cement walls up around me, trash bins in the corner, and I waited until the sun went down.

...

I had went with 'trying to break up a bar fight', which earned me a lot of heavy pats on the back and praises from the older, drunken gentlemen lingering in and around the bar. My roommates all had the same reaction of gasping at the sight of me and then telling me to put some ice on it.

It looked worse than it was, now that it was healing. The small cut was just a red line instead of an open wound, and the colour of the bruise took on a yellow-ish, green-ish hue instead of the deep purple it once was.

It had been about four days.

I kept up with work at the bar like normal - I continued everything like normal. If I had been looking over my shoulder every second of the day, it would've been exhausting. I knew that Miguel got what he wanted to get from me and that was that. I did worry a little, I would admit. If he found of that I had lied, I would have much more than a sore cheek.

The hustle of the bar kept me busy, but then had to go home. The girls kept me preoccupied for a time, but then I had to go to bed. For the past three nights I had laid awake for what seemed like hours before I could finally push myself to sleep.

And it wasn't even Miguel I was thinking about.

I wondered where Sam and Sully were and if they had followed my directions, instructions, and tips that I had so kindly let them in on. I wondered if they made it and if they were on their way back or if something had gone wrong. If something had gone wrong, what was it? Had one of them simply twisted an ankle? Or was it that Miguel and his good for nothing gang were up there with them?

Laying in my bed, staring up the dirtied ceiling - it gave me too much time to think. I couldn't remember the last time I didn't fall asleep the second my head hit the pillow and yet, there I was. I was tired, but I just couldn't sleep. I went to bed tired and woke up even more tired and it turned into a vicious cycle in which I felt there was no way out until there was some confirmation that they were safe.

But they had given me my money. What was to say I would ever see them again even. If Miguel was really onto them, I doubted that Sam and Sully would want to be sticking around, with or without the 'treasure'. I wasn't expecting them to pay me a visit, but I wished they would.

Who knew? Maybe they were already out of Spain.

I had no number, email, or even last name. It was a lost cause and I needed to let it go - something I was notoriously good at. Why couldn't I stop thinking about it? It was fucking annoying.

Speaking of fucking annoying.

"It's the same price every time, Jorge," I told him.

Jorge reached up with his hairy arm and wiped the sweat from his forehead, displaying his watch and rings at the same time. He grinned at me, probably hoping I would fold. "Come on," he drawled out, voice low and scraggly. "Don't you do something special for regulars?"

"No."

"I've heard different." He pointed at me to intimidate me.

Jorge was not intimidating. He owned a hotel a little ways down and wore too many rings to really use his hands, but his knack for wearing tops too small for him took away anything that could've made him intimidating. One look at buttons barely holding together and I couldn't take him seriously. The fact that he was trying to talk me into giving him free drinks for the twentieth time was hilarious to me.

I reached out, ready to take the beers back to my side of the counter. "Take it or leave it, man."

"Fine, fine -" He said quickly, hastily putting his hand over mine to which I pulled away from. He grabbed the beers and looked at me through his disturbingly long eyebrow hairs. "You drive a hard bargain, kid."

I watched him waddle away to the table he always sat at and I shook my head, taking my cloth out of my pouch and wiping the counter in big circles, walking down the long slab of wood until it ended. I threw the towel in the sink behind me and then walked through the tables, eyes searching for empties or spills or anything to occupy my time.

"Senhora!"

I walked over to the man who called, plucking the empty beer bottle from his outstretched arm. I kept walking, headed toward the bar when the sight of a tall man coming through the door caught my eye. I felt my knees give out and I let them, crawling behind the bar. I crawled along the disgusting ground until I got close enough to the door I had just watched Miguel come through. I peered over the bar top, watching as Miguel walked through the bar, looking for someone - me or Sam and Sully.

Whoever, whatever - I needed to get out.

"What -"

"Shit!"

"The fuck are you doing?"

I sat down on the floor, feeling my heart thumping inside my chest. I looked at Nats, who was kneeling down next to me, looking at me expectantly. I let out a deep breath, relaxing at her friendly face. "Just this guy..."

Nats nodded, seeming like she understood without me really saying anything at all. "Clingy ex?"

Close enough. "Yeah."

"Which one?"

I leaned up and she followed suit. I scanned the room, seeing Miguel far enough in the distance that I felt comfortable pointing him out. "Sleeveless top, douchey hair."

"Good god, Ang, you know how to pick 'em." She stared at him for a while, a wide smile coming to her face as she barely glanced down at me. "What's the deal, he won't leave you alone?"

"That's the problem."

"If the dude looks like that, I wouldn't really call it a problem."

Nats had that familiar look on her face that only seemed to surface in one of the three scenarios: getting a big tip, earning a day off, or knowing there was a sexy man at her disposal.

I fell back down behind that bar, my hand landing in an unknown liquid. I shook my hand, looking up to see Nats still peering over the bar. "Why don't you go distract him then?" I watched her start to smirk. "Give me a chance to sneak out?"

Still looking over the bar, she said, "And then I have to cover your shift." She sighed, crouching down next to me again. She looked at me with playful eyes and a happy expression and I knew she was going to do it. "At least tell me he's a good lay."

I chuckled a little bit at her abrasiveness. "You won't be disappointed."

"You've got a deal," she told me, not giving me a chance to respond before standing tall and licking her lips, eyes off in the distance.

I watched her as she bounced off, almost in awe of the unwavering confidence. I could've laughed, but I was too focused on staying hunched over until I reached the door of the bar, pulling it open just enough to slide through.

Once I was outside, I could allow myself to take a breath.

I didn't know why he was there, but I didn't want to stick around to find out. I headed to my apartment quickly, but not moving suspiciously fast. Once I got through the front door, I realized that my hands were sticky and my shirt was wet.

I went to the sink and washed my hands and then decided it would be a good idea to take a shower.

"I'm taking a shower!" I yelled out into the darkened house as I ran up the stairs. As long as I made it known, no one could hop in there before me. Also, I could avoid someone flushing the toilet and making the water either scalding hot or freezing cold.

Only Cara responded, yelling out, "Alright!"

At the sound of her voice, I headed for her bedroom, knocking quickly before opening the door. I waited until she took her headphones out to casually say, "How's it going?"

"Fine," she answered simply, books splayed out in front of her on her bed.

I held onto the doorknob, leaning against the door frame. "Hey, have you seen Miguel recently?"

She nodded. "Just the other day, actually. He asked about you." Her eyes darted over me as her face went into an unreadable expression. I couldn't guess what she was thinking, but I had something to do with Miguel. She always had a thing for him.

"Oh, I know," I said to her, putting on a charming smile. "The guy was bugging me a couple of days ago." I waited for a second to see her look down at her books instead of me. "Miguel and I aren't really on good terms right now, Care, so if he asks about me again -"

She looked up at me quickly. "My lips are zipped." Her facial expression turned genuine. I didn't know why she was so compliant all the sudden. It was likely the idea that Miguel and I weren't going to be doing any of what we used to do.

I was happy she was happy with it. She could have him.

"Thanks." I took a step back, taking the door with me. "Don't work too hard!" Once the door was closed, I turned and headed for the bathroom, not being able to stand the feeling of my wet shirt against my skin anymore. I took it off as I walked down the hallway, throwing it into my bedroom as I passed it.

"I've always enjoyed a good strip tease."

I took a couple of steps back, looking into my bedroom. When I saw Sam sitting on my bed, I had to fight the wild smile that might've come to my face. I made my way into my room, toward him. "You're alive."

Sam stood tall, groaning as he did. "Uh-huh."

His face was a bit more tanned than before, probably from waking up in the direct and very harsh sunlight. He had a couple of scratches on his face and probably more underneath his freshly washed clothes.

I kept walking toward him until we were a couple feet apart. I tilted my head to the other side, making it obvious that I was looking him over. Once I got back to his eyes, I said, "And you've got all your limbs. Was Sully so lucky?"

"The old guy's seen better days, but a good nights sleep and he'll be back to it." Sam looked me over too, a little less obvious. He looked at my face, leaning in slightly as his eyes narrowed at my cheek. "You get in a fight or something?"

I sighed a small sigh, not about to lie to the one person who would've actually understood what happened. "Just doing my duty of making sure you and Sully get what you paid me for."

He turned serious - neck tightening, lips pressing together. "You didn't have to do that."

"Of course I did," I told him. If he thought I was going to sell him out at the first sign of trouble, it made me wonder the people he had been around his whole life. I focused back on him. "I did my part. Did they end up giving you any trouble?"

"A little bit," Sam admitted, the charming air engulfing him once again as the stiffness of the serious conversation faded. "But not much. They were amateurs dealing with some seasoned professionals." He looked at me, starting to smile. "You know how it is."

I smiled too and then I licked my lips in an effort to stop. I placed my hand casually on my hip, shifting on my feet, realizing that I was still shirtless. Regardless, his eyes stayed on me. "Why are you creeping around my bedroom?"

"I thought you might've missed me." He stepped closer, hands resting on me. He caught my hand as it fell away from my hip, putting it around him. He looked down at me, breathing out steadily as his nose brushed against mine. "You did, didn't you?"

"Judging by this -" I leaned forward, feeling the closeness between us as our lips nearly touched. "I think it was _you_ who missed _me_." I reached down, pushing his hands away from me so that I could take a big step back. I couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. "I don't know if it's safe for you to be here."

My uneasiness did not rub off of him. He continued to smile, taking another step closer. "In your bedroom or -"

I laughed briefly, taking another step back. "In Portugal, dumb ass. If you got what you wanted, which I think you very much did judging by the good mood, then your best bet is to get out of Portugal as soon as possible, don't you think?"

"You are really trying to get rid of me." He walked closer again, not giving up on what he clearly had in mind.

"I'm just concerned, that's all." I knew I was getting close to my bedroom wall, so I took a small step back and leaned against it, giving him an inviting look. He got close enough for me to wrap my arms around his neck. I pulled him close, pressing my body against his. "Is that so bad?"

He hummed, his arms coming around me to hold me close just like before. "Now I didn't say that."

He leaned down and kissed me, reminding me of how good he was at just that. Our grips on each other tightened as I felt my back hit the wall again. The heat from my body and the heat from his made the clothing I had left burn against my skin. I squeezed his shoulders and his lips detached from mine quickly as he let out a groan of pain.

My hand slid to his chest as I pushed him away from me very lightly and gently. I looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "You alright?"

He barely answered as he leaned in again. "Good as gold."

I dodged him, chuckling as I walked around him. I kept facing him as I walked backward toward the bed. I waited him to turn to face me to say, "Take off your shirt."

Sam's eyebrows rose and the same expression on his face was the same one that had been there nearly the whole time - smug and suggestive. "Oh?" He reached down and starting to tug his shirt over his head, wincing a little as he did. He let his shirt fall to the ground, turning around slowly. "Well? Tell me I'm handsome."

I watched closely, observing every red crack there was - some deep, others superficial. One of his shoulders was more bruised than the other, also sporting a long, red cut across it. He had a white cloth around his torso, a red circle of blood staining it right below his ribs on his right side. The knot holding it together was barely doing it's job and the cloth looked old and almost as if it had already been used.

"Who patched you up?"

"Myself."

I sat down on the bed, looking up at him, smiling to myself. Finally something Sam wasn't good at. "I figured."

A deep chuckle came from him and then he put his hands on his hips. "And you think you could do better or what?"

"I know I can," I told him, patting the spot on the bed beside me. He sat down very close to me, breath on my face and eyes resting on me. I untied his bandage easily and threw the gross cloth into the garbage. I touched the skin surrounding the wound, pulling lightly to get a look at it. It was sort of circular and a couple of inches big. It looked deep, but I couldn't really tell, so I pulled harder to get better look.

"Ah," Sam let out, promptly grabbing my hand and pulling it away from his torso. "You don't exactly have that soft touch, Ang."

I looked at his face, his hand still holding mine. "It's as soft as it gets, Sam." I took my hand from his slowly, patting his leg as I stood and went to the bathroom to grab a small tub of thick, clear gel as well as a roll of gauze.

I stopped to look at myself in the mirror, combing my fingers through my hair quickly to tame the askew strands. I touched the cut and bruise on my cheek very lightly, feeling the discomfort as I did. My eyes fell down to my chest as I realized I was still in my bra.

"Slowly dying in here!"

I left the mirror and walked back to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. "A little dramatic, don't you think?" I fell back onto the bed, laying the contents out, picking up the tub of gel first, opening it and dipping my fingers it to get a generous amount of gel. "This might hurt, especially with my not-so-soft touch." I smeared the gel over the wound, earning a loud groan from Sam as he gripped my sheets.

He laughed, despite the pain, still looking at me. "Now you're doing it on purpose."

I made no effort to hide my satisfied smirk. "Maybe I am." I wiped my fingers, turning the lid back over the tub and unrolling the gauze, glancing at him briefly as I wrapped my arms around him, grabbing the edge of the roll with one hand, pulling both ends back around to the front. I repeated that a couple of times until I had a secure wrap around his torso. I ripped it and then tied it, leaning back to observe my work. It was neat and clean, very unlike whatever the hell it was he had before. "That's better."

Sam let out a breath, straightening out his back and cracking his neck. His face turned to me. "My hero."

I hummed and nodded, looking him over one more time for serious injuries. They all seemed serious to me, but he would definitely survive. I couldn't have imagined what happened and what him and Sully went through and how dangerous everything could've been. My eyes darted to the window behind him for a brief moment, knowing that every second he was in Portugal was risky.

"Hey." Sam's voice was quiet for once as he rested his big, warm hand on my bare leg. His other hand tapped my chin, making me look up at him. "Why the frown, huh?"

I tried not to stare and I tried to be as objective as possible - emotionless even. "They'll never stop looking for you as long as you're here." My strategy failed me as I felt the emotion pour out of me. Suddenly, I couldn't not look at him. "They'll kill you. You took the one thing they thought they had in this world. You can't be here."

"Sully and I have a plane out for tomorrow," he told me quickly, his grip on my leg tightening a little. "Don't worry about us. We know not to stick around." He watched me nod and his hands slid away from me but he still stared.

"What?"

"You can't stay here either."

I felt my neck twitch from the comment alone. I was touched, but I tried to seem like I wasn't as I took on a casual tone. "There's no trouble for me here," I said. "I told them I didn't know."

"Oh, yeah?" Sam nodded, not impressed nor convinced. "And how long until they figure out that you _did_ know this whole time? How long 'til they come for you. It won't just be -" He gestured so my face. "It won't be simple as the last time. These guys are amateurs, which almost makes them more dangerous. They know no bounds."

Immediately, I ran through multiple scenarios in my head of places I would go. I didn't have anything set up anywhere. I couldn't just get up and go. The only place that I knew would have a cushion for me if I decided to leave as soon as the sun came up was...home.

I would have to call my mom.

"What're you thinking?"

I shrugged, afraid to even mention the idea just in case Sam approved. "I guess I could go home."

To my absolute horror, Sam nodded. "Whatever you need to do."

"Where will you go?" I wasn't going to ask to go with them. It didn't even pop up in my mind, though now that it had, I realized Sam would be leaving.

"We've kinda got something lined up in Nepal."

"More treasure?" I asked, a smile tugging at my lips once he nodded. "What, you're not satisfied with what you got?"

Sam scoffed, shoulders shaking a little. "I'll be satisfied when I'm dead."

I chuckled and moved my body to face him perfectly, legs crossed over in front of me. I let the exhaustion come to me as I felt my back slouch and eyes tire. Even then, I couldn't look away from him. "I prefer you alive."

The moonlight was perfect on the one half of his face, highlighting every feature on him that made my whole body temperature rise. Every time I looked at him I wondered if I had ever seen a man so handsome. I knew I had, but I couldn't think of any at the moment.

It was like he knew what I was thinking. His expression turned almost smug - the close-mouthed smile and relaxed facial expression with him looking at me in such a way that it felt playful. He leaned forward and I felt his hand on my back. His other hand came quickly to my leg and he pulled, pulling that leg over his legs as he pushed against my back to assist me moving into his lap.

His nose touched mine and the smug expression remained. When he opened his mouth, I expected something funny. Instead, he said, "I prefer me alive too."

My brows furrowed as I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I don't know whether that was romantic or narcissistic." I looked at all of the details of his face, now seeing a few very small cuts now that I was really close.

Both of his hands rubbed my back, bringing a comforting heat over my entire body. I felt relaxed, maybe even safe. His hands were so rough, but so warm. He leaned in close to my face. "I was hoping romantic."

I also leaned in closer, letting my body mould onto his, "Laying it on a little thick, huh?"

"Well, this is goodbye, isn't it?"

I leaned away a little, glancing over him, feeling a little taken back as well as saddened. That was the reality of the whole thing, wasn't it? The circumstances and the timeline weren't in our favour. It would make more sense for the whole thing to be a fling. That's what I told myself to convince me not to say anything too serious or too stupid.

Regardless of what the next day would bring, I was feeling good in that moment of having Sam's hands on me, holding me close. "Not yet," I told him, leaning forward and pressing my lips against his, which were ready for mine.

We kissed each other passionately - eagerly. All the energy I had left was going into making sure I could remember as much as this as possible. We tugged at each other's clothes, falling back onto the bed, Sam rolling over me. His lips left mine, falling onto my neck. I sighed, my mind racing a mile a minute with the thoughts of Sam leaving. What if we never saw each other again? When I felt Sam's tongue on my collarbone, the thoughts left me.

Knowing that the bliss wouldn't last, I savoured every moment.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Uncharted series

srsly i dont pls dont sue me pls

* * *

1

 _Venezuela_

 _12 years and 5 months ago_

Venezuela was just as beautiful as every other place we had been, maybe even more. Mérida was 2,710 meters above sea level on a mountain surrounded by many other mountains. It felt like a little pocket - like you could jump off the small stone walls surrounding the village and land on the next mountain over. Of course, you couldn't do that, but the surrounding mountains were so close, you almost think you could.

The cobblestone streets were lined with small houses, packed so close together that there was no use in really in having windows unless you were on the edge or the end. Thankfully, this bar was on the edge of the mountain, giving the most wonderful of mountains as far as the eye could see. The hours and hours in that tiny car on the winding road, as well as the ache in my legs from the hike was beyond worth it.

Sitting in that bar, staring out the small square of the window - it felt like the rest of the world didn't even exist.

There was a loud tapping sound, bringing me back to the round table I was sitting at. Kenny was slapping his two fingers against the table, right on top of one of the eleven 8x10 photos laid out in front of us.

"Focus, Angela," he said, stopping his merciless tapping as he sat back into his chair. He looked sweaty and stressed. "No day dreaming. We have a deadline, remember? In a little less than a week we have to pack up and go and we probably won't come back so you better look at these prints and see what we can do." He let out a big breath, placing his hands over his young face.

I turned in my chair, facing the table and not the window, turning the printed photo towards me. I glanced at Kenny, smiling at him. "Aren't you fun tonight."

After he was done rubbing his face, he relaxed, but just barely. "I'm sorry. You know that this is the first major story that they've trusted me with. I can't mess this up. It has to be perfect."

Kenny was always stressed out. He was just a journalist trying to prove himself in the world. He was young - only a couple years older than myself, but from all the stressing through his whole life, he looked older. He had bags under his eyes and wrinkles on his forehead and a twitch he would get on his eyebrow every time we got close to our deadline. He was very talented and decently attractive, so he made for a good travel partner. But he doubted himself often. He also buttoned his shirt almost all the way to the top. He would've never been my friend in another life, but as a coworker that I had to travel a shit ton of places with, we made do.

"Just take a breath, Ken," I told him. I gathered the photos closer to me and started to examine them, glancing at him again. "As long as you're writing the piece, it'll be perfect."

"The only perfect thing we have so far are your photos." He picked up one of the prints, shaking his head. When he put it back down, he wouldn't look me in the eyes. "It's always so easy for you."

It was never easy. Getting a photo that was worthy of the job, relevant and tailored to the article, as well as pleasing to the eye was never easy, but it was absolutely possible. Doing the landscape, the people - whatever the subject of the photo - justice was the hardest part. Once you had the photo, though, you were set. In my opinion, taking photos was a lot easier than writing articles. At least from the way Kenny always talked about it, it seemed that way.

"You know it's not like that."

Kenny dropped the picture, eyes boring into mine. "Come on. These pictures are perfect and the first draft of my article is shit."

"Well, let me read it."

"And what're gonna do? Write notes in the margin?" He scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"Anything to get you to stop whining." I took a moment to enjoy his reaction as my laughter subsided. I then tried a look of sympathy. "I'm just bugging you." I leaned back in my chair, glancing through the sea of tanned people in the room to see if the actual bar itself was busy. "I'll get us a beer."

"Let me." Kenny stood before I had the chance, walking around me. "You're the one who's gonna save this article."

He always said stuff like that. He worried and doubted and whined, but in the end, he produced a really interesting and well-written article/story that our bosses praised him for. I wasn't sure if he was really that insecure or if he didn't like me as much as I thought.

When we first met, Kenny had let me in on just how hard he had worked his whole life to get where he was. He talked about all the schools and the studying and the money he put in - not like his family wasn't incredibly well-off. When he asked me how I got the job, I didn't see any need to lie, but the story came across very 'it just fell into my lap' sort of story which I thought rubbed Kenny the wrong way. I would've lied had I known it would end up with all the whining and the passive aggressive comments.

Very unlike Kenny, I decided not to stress about it. I just looked through the prints of the photos, looking closely, picturing them next to words in the magazine and trying to gauge which ones would make it into the piece.

"Perdoneme, senorita." The voice from behind me came louder as I heard the footsteps. It took me a moment to realize they were talking to me. By the time I turned around, the low and slightly rough voice I thought I recognized made sense to me.

"Victor Sullivan," I said, probably smiling pretty wide. I stood up immediately wrapping my arms around him.

He wrapped his arms around me too, patting me on the back. "How the hell are ya, kid?"

"I'm good." I leaned back from him, waving his cigar smoke from my face. "Good to know you're still on the cigars. And that you're Spanish is just as bad as your Portuguese."

He laughed, the deep chuckle reminding me of the long drive and short hike had all the months ago in Portugal. "And you're still sharp as ever." He looked past me at the table of photos. "What're you up to?"

"Working," I told him, mimicking his actions of leaning over the table and looking over the photos.

"Very nice, kid."

"Thanks," I said quietly, gathering them up a little, suddenly feeling bashful as Sully's critic eye. I leaned away from the table, reaching back and resting my hands on the chair behind me. "What about you, though? Business or pleasure?"

"Business, mostly. This bar almost makes me want to change my mind." He glanced over his shoulder at the bar top, directly at the owner of the bar - a beautiful woman who had lived in Venezuela for thirty years, owning the bar for twenty-five of them. She was probably about ten years younger than Sully and _a lot_ better at speaking Spanish.

I looked around the bar quickly and discreetly. "You doing this one on your own?"

Sully looked at me like he knew exactly what I was really asking, but he didn't mention that. He simply said, "Robin's around here somewhere."

I laughed a little. "I think Sam might disagree on who's Batman."

"Probably," Sully agreed. We spent a second and a bit just looking at each other as he took a puff of his cigar. He then used that hand to point the cigar at me. "How have you been since Portugal, really?"

"Busy," I answered honestly. "I've just been working as much as I can."

Sully nodded slowly. He seemed like he was about to say something he wanted to say the second we saw each other. "Sam talks about you all the time, you know."

I was very pleased to hear that, although a little surprised. When the little whatever that was in Portugal came to an end, he didn't ask for my number or give me his, so I didn't ask for his or give him mine. I figured we both would settle with a sort of 'that was that' notion for the rest of our lives. I was doing okay with that, but I often wondered 'what if'. So imagine my surprise that the guy I had been thinking about for the past seven months was talking about me.

I could feel all the thoughts coming back to me. I shook my head a little bit, letting out a soft and quick sigh before looking back at Sully. "What about you? Haven't you missed me?"

Sully laughed at that. "Very smooth transition, kid." He glanced over his shoulder, again looking at the owner of the bar. "I've been a little busy myself."

I smiled, feeling the seven months of not seeing Sully tug at my very sensitive strings again. "Her name is Malia. I can introduce you."

"I think I can handle that much, but if you have any advice, I'll take it."

Simplicity seemed best. "Just tell her she's beautiful."

"How do I say that?"

I chuckled, placing my hands on his shoulder and spinning him to face the bar. "In English, Sully." I gave him and very small, but encouraging push. "Come find me when you've got a number."

Sully didn't hesitate to start walking. I watched him go, looking onto him fondly.

I tried not to think about Portugal because it was just a hole that was hard to get out of. If I started to think about it, I just thought about how much fun I had there and how much I missed it - how much I missed Sully and Sam. All of that time thinking about that stuff made it really hard to focus on work, so it was simple for me to decide to just not think about it. The only thing about that was that if I ever saw them again - like just now - it was a massive wave of emotions crashing down on me all at once.

I could feel my smile fading away as the massive wave approach.

"That's quite the frown you got there."

I had been so in my head I hadn't realized one of the tanned bodies in the sea of people was walking toward me. Once I focused in on who exactly, I felt the wave crash, making me take a small step back. "Sam."

He walked toward me with no sign of stopping despite my stepping away. He stopped just a foot away from me, looking down at me. "Angela," he repeated my tone back to me, smiling slightly. "What, you're not happy to see us?"

At the look of him and the sound of my voice, I felt myself relax. He looked like he had not changed at all, except a couple of new but small scratches on his neck and chest. He looked just a good as last time - maybe even more so, if that was possible.

I stared at him and felt the burning desire to touch him. I took a step closer, reaching up, my hands landing on his arms, sliding up until the rested on his shoulders. My eyes went from his chest to his eyes, our smiles matching each other's. "Now I didn't say that," I said to him. Both of us laughed quietly, my hands falling away as the air around us took on a casual and relaxed vibe. "What are you doing in Venezuela?"

"The usual," he told me, eyes shamelessly moving all over me as he talked. "Just looking for some dead guy's old treasure."

"And how's that going?"

"Well, we're a little stuck at the moment." He smiled, his head tilting slightly. "That's why we're here."

I hummed and nodded. "Hoping a little bit of alcohol might clear your mind?"

"Exactly." His eyes moved behind me, probably on the table. "What's all this?" I side-stepped, leaving the photos to be on full display to him. I stood next to him, glancing at him as he reached out and brought a couple photos closer to him. He looked somewhat impressed. "These are good." He glanced at me too, somewhere between a smile and a smirk. "Almost as good as those photos in Portugal."

My eyebrows rose. "Almost?"

Sam changed the subject by leaning back from the table slightly, but still sticking very close. He stood up straight. "I thought you were going home?"

"I did for a little bit." Both of us moved to sit down at the same time, pulling our chairs from the table to sit so that we were facing each other. Once I sat down, I sighed. "I got bored pretty fast, so I was doing some freelance photography and then I got picked up by this magazine."

"Which magazine is that?"

I hated saying it. I felt like it was such a brag, so I never went around just saying it. "Uh, National." I nodded, watching Sam's face turn confused. I felt my the words burn in my mouth as I finished my sentence. "As in Geographic."

His eyebrows rose briefly, taking a second to blink dramatically. He looked a little shocked and _very_ impressed this time. "National, as in Geographic, huh?" His face returned to the normal smug expression, looking like he was enjoying the annoyed expression on my face. "How'd you swing that?"

"I didn't apply, okay?" I made sure to make that obvious. I never would've applied ever for a magazine as big as National Geographic, but I wasn't going to say no if they offered me a job. "One of my clients was planning of leaving the company to go on a personal trip and she told me she would tell them about me and -" I shrugged, leaning back into my chair. "It just happened."

"Well, you're welcome."

I smiled, trying to hold back the laughter that was forcing it's way out. "I don't remember saying thank you."

Sam's hand landed on the table, tapping lightly with her long fingers. "If I had never gotten you into that life-threatening situation, you would've never moved back home and gotten this job, so..." He paused, smirking at me. "You're welcome."

I couldn't hold it back and the laughter came out. "How humble of you, Sam."

He watched me laugh, but didn't laugh himself. His expression fell into something I interpreted as more genuine. "I'm happy for you." He looked at the table to break up a moment that maybe was a little too serious.

I nodded, waiting until his eyes met mine again to say, "Thank you."

We looked at each other for a moment too long, as Kenny had the time to get the drop on us, startling us both as he sat down in a chair on the end side of the table. He placed my beer in front of me, glancing from me to Sam before leaning over the table, hand out. "Hi, I'm Kenneth Paul."

Sam's eyes slowly left mind and landed on Kenny, doing the polite thing of shaking his hand, even though it looked like he didn't want to. "Sam."

I took my beer from the table, holding it in my lap. "Kenny and I work together. I take the pictures and he writes."

"Usually in that order, too," Kenny said, chuckling at himself. He nodded at Sam. "How do you two know each other?"

I wasn't going to leave that question to the sarcastic, smart ass Sam Drake, so I jumped in before Sam could say anything. "We met in Portugal while I was working at the bar."

Sam, next to me, said quietly, "Close enough."

Kenny nodded. "Oh, did she do some work for you?"

Sam started to smirk and I knew that what came to his mind was not was Kenny meant. He glanced at me, nodding at me. "Quite a bit, yeah."

I wanted to be annoyed or embarrassed but looking at his face, I could only smile at him, which I was sure was making Kenny confused by looking at the two of us. I coughed to end that conversation, starting to stand. "If you don't mind, Ken, I'm gonna put these photos away back at the house."

"Oh, alright," he said easily, pointing at three photos before I could gather them up. "I was thinking print eleven, nine, and maybe, uh, six? Pin those ones up on the board and we can talk about it later."

Sam stood too, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. "Nice to meet you, Kenneth."

"Likewise."

Beer in hand and photos tucked under my arm, Sam and I walked out of the bar. I caught sight of Sully on the way, leaning across the bar to be close to Malia, who seemed to be enjoying the fact he was doing that. I didn't think he would miss us, so it was just me and Sam as we walked down the cobblestone street.

"Well, Kenneth Paul seems like fun."

I shook my head, despite my chuckling. "Be nice. Kenny's a good writer." I winced a little bit. "Not the best travel partner, but he's very talented."

"Have you been traveling a lot?"

My thoughts immediately set off to all the memories of all the beautiful places I had been in the last seven months. Maybe I wasn't quick to mention that I worked at a very popular, respected magazine, but I was never quiet about traveling. "We went to Bhutan first," I said, feeling the tug at my lips to smile. "And then we were in Croatia. I never wanted to leave, but when we got to Argentina, I wasn't so mad about it anymore." I let the fond memories fall away as I focused back and paying attention to how far down the street we were. "When we finished that piece, we got sent here." I looked over at him. "I'm not complaining."

"Wow." Sam nodded, smoking his cigarette. "Do you have a place anywhere then or are you gone too often?"

"I have a studio apartment in Washington. It's really nothing special, but it is a place to sleep for the couple of weeks that I'm not working on a new article." Our feet tapped against the stone lightly, filling the quiet street.

A lot of the houses had lights on but were silent. It might've been eerie with the quietness, the dark, and the massive mountains surrounding us, but it was too beautiful to be scary. The stars in the sky were so bright and wonderful and the air was warm and comforting. Having Sam there wasn't so bad either.

"Sounds like you're doing exactly what you said you wanted to do; take photos and travel."

Sam had rolled his eyes when I told him that last time, somewhat jokingly, but he was being pretty supportive as of now. I was a little suspicious.

"Sounds like you doubted me." I was only trying to poke fun, hence the smile on my face as I said it.

When Sam turned to me, he was serious. "What, no," he said quickly. He saw the amused look on my face and he let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. "I'm just...you made it happen instead of just telling everyone that was what you wanted. It's...reassuring."

I was the smug one suddenly. "You mean impressive?"

Sam lifted his cigarette to his lips, saying in a deep voice, "Yeah, I wouldn't go that far."

I laughed, taking a big gulp of the funny tasting beer, leaving a little less than half in the bottle as I held it out to Sam. "Do you want any of this?"

"What, you mean all your backwash? Gee thanks," he joked, but took it anyway and finished it off.

"Have you been travelling lots?"

"We've been doing some jobs - some small and some less small." He stared ahead, giving me a good look at his profile - his very handsome profile. "We've been back and forth in a lot of places. I'm glad we've caught a bit of a break here."

"A break? So no guys with guns chasing after you?"

Sam smiled at me and then jokingly looked very dramatically over his shoulder. He looked back at me. "Not that I know of."

I laughed, slowing my walk as we approached the half-pink, half-yellow house with the uneven door in the uneven doorway. I took the empty beer bottle from Sam and placed it delicately in front of the house to remind myself to take care of it later. "Come on," I said to him, wrapping my hand around the loose doorknob.

"Ang." Sam pulled on my arm, stopping me from opening the door. Once I was facing him, waiting for a response, he explained himself. "I'm gonna leave you here, I think."

I smiled. "Very gentlemanly of you, Sam, but we both know that's not happening."

Sam had a look on his face that I couldn't read. He seemed hesitant, but not like he was scared, just like he was being...cautious. In his deep, sexy, very distracting voice, he tried to tell me what his thoughts were. "I just don't know if that's a good idea."

"It's completely safe in there," I teased. I chuckled a little bit, placing the photos down on the ledge protruding from the house. I stepped closer to him, placing what I thought was a comforting hand on his chest. "I promise."

He was looking down at me, eyes intense and steady. He kept his gaze as he place his hand over mine, cradling it in his own as he took it away from him. "It's been a long while since we saw each other. I could be a completely different person now, you know. I might've picked up some weird hobbies, you don't know."

I laughed. "I think I'll take my chances." When Sam didn't move, my brows furrowed before I could help myself. I quickly relaxed my face and took a step away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. "What's wrong?"

"It not exactly like we kept in touch." He was being so apprehensive, like coming into the house with me could be the worst thing he could do.

I shifted on my feet for a moment. "It's not like you gave me a number or anything."

He smiled and shook his head. "Well, you didn't give me yours either."

I smiled back, even though I really was a little annoyed. "You didn't ask for a mine, so I figured you didn't want it."

"I didn't."

"Ouch." I laughed, not because any of it was funny, but because I was really taken aback. Had I just been embarrassing myself this whole time? I started to turn away as I felt my face become red.

"Wait." Sam didn't hesitate that time, reaching out with his big, warm hands to grab my arms. He pulled me a little bit closer, but still keeping a fair distance. "I didn't mean it like that, alright?" He loosened his grip, but didn't let go. "I wanted to, but I just couldn't. I had already put you at risk once -"

"What?" I was just growing more confused by the second. "What're you talking about?"

He sighed, licking his lips, and then continued. "Guys with guns, Ang. There's always someone who's after the same thing Sully and I are after. Whoever gets it is just whoever survived. I couldn't drag anyone into that fucking mess, especially you."

I shook my head, taking a step back while trying to absorb all the information that was hitting me all at once. Amidst my desperate attempt to understand, I asked, "Why _e_ _specially_ me?"

He stared at me, the same unreadable expression on his face. He had lost his cigarette at some point and so his hands were in tight fists at his sides. The muscles under his thin shirt looked tight, like he was stressed out. "You had already got hurt because of me once. I don't want to see you getting hurt again."

I stopped thinking through everything because it was making sense for one stupid, but endearing reason; he wanted to keep me safe. I think I could've thought of something a little bit better than going our separate to never see each other again, but I guess that one was on both of us.

I nodded, taking a couple of very small steps closer to him. "Isn't that sweet."

He tilted his head, eyes stuck on me. "Wasn't meant to be sweet."

I chuckled very softly and quietly, taking his hand on mine and tugging just barely. "Just come inside, Sam."

He shook his head but walked with me toward the front door. As I opened the door, he said, "It's not gonna be like Portugal if I go in there. I'm not gonna stop bugging you after this."

"Sounds awful."

He pulled at my arm to make me look at him. "Hey, I'm serious. You know what you're getting yourself into, don't you?"

Both of us travelling all the time, probably always in different places and Sam taking on jobs I had first-hand experience in knowing were illegal and dangerous and prone other people shooting at him for the sake of getting some treasure - that was what I was getting into. Neither of those things were permanent - nothing was! I wasn't thinking long-term in my mind, but if that was how it ended up being, I didn't see that as such an awful thing, like Sam was implying.

"Ssh." I took steps backward into the house, pulling him toward me. I stopped, walking to him and reaching over his shoulder to grab the frame of the door to swing it closed. When it was shut, I put my other arm up and over his shoulder, pressing my body against his. "No more talking."

He sighed, arms wrapping around me, leaning forward so that the tip of his nose was touching mine. "Fine." He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that was too short. "No more talking." He kissed me again, reminding me again of just how much I had missed all of this.

...

With my eyes closed, I breathed in the steam in the air and immensely enjoyed the feeling of the hot, hot water from the shower wrapping around my body. I sighed, tilting my head backward to allow the water run down my neck.

"Getting a little cold over here."

I smiled, looking over my shoulder at Sam. "I told you it was a small shower."

His hands landed on my hips, spinning me around a little too fast for a slippery shower and I clutched onto him for balance. Once we were still, his strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me close. "We can share, you know."

"Since you're such a baby about it -" I turned us to the side, drenching one side of us collectively in hot water, the other side a little left out, but not exactly cold. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling my back against the shower wall. The window in the bathroom was open and it was around noon, so the air outside was hot enough to keep us comfortable, despite Sam's dramatics. "Happy?"

"Don't appreciate the attitude -" Lips together, he smiled down at me. "But yes, I am."

My hands ran over his wet back, feeling every hard muscle underneath his skin. My hands made their way to his shoulder and then his chest and I looked over his body. He was in incredible shape, probably all credited to his 'job' or should I say jobs that he partook in. Looking at him, naked and wet, I could feel the all too familiar heat inside of my body rising. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip as my eyes darted up to his. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Sam's focused on me intently, watching every move and feelings my hands run over his chest only to lower. "Anything you want." He craned his neck down to kiss me, one of his hands gliding smoothly up my back to hold my neck, the other moving down to grab a handful of my ass. He squeezed and I moaned, lowering my hand further down his body.

Sam detached from me briefly to let out a satisfied sigh. "Oh, Ang -"

"Angela!" The door of the bathroom swinging open came too soon after Kenny yelling for me.

Sam froze in his spot, face moving away from mine so I could see his annoyed expression. "What -"

I put my hand over his mouth quickly, trying to tell him to be quiet without having to tell him at all. I moved my head so that I could talk over Sam's shoulder to the shower curtain that I could see the outline of Kenny behind. "Yeah?"

"Where did you put the bag with my extra charger in it? Which bag was it even?"

"I put it in the blue bag."

" _Which_ blue bag?"

"The one with the double zippers," I told him, feeling myself losing my patience. "In the cupboard below that painting of Angel Falls."

"Alright, thanks." Kenny's outline moved to the door, but stopped again. "I'm gonna be at the cafe all day, I think, so come get a coffee later and we'll look things over."

"Sounds good." I pulled my hand away from Sam's mouth as the door closed. I sighed to get rid of any annoyance I had muster up in those short thirty seconds. I then looked back up at Sam, fully aware that our naked bodies were still pressed up against each other. "Shall we continue?"

Sam seemed to be in the same state I was in, so it surprised me when he took a step back. "I thought you said you guys weren't friends."

"Not a friend. Just a coworker." I put both hands on the back of his neck, pulling him close enough for me to kiss his lips quickly. I ducked my head into his neck, kissing and biting lightly. I thought we were on the same page, but clearly...

"I don't have a lot of coworkers walk in on me while I'm in the shower." His tone was so unbothered and casual - joking, almost.

I laughed, allowing my legs to relax as I came off my tiptoes. "I sure hope not." I kissed his chest, my hands feeling over his wet skin. I quickly realized that his hands were sitting still on my hips. I leaned away, looking up at him. "You alright?"

His brows furrowed at me. "Yeah, why?"

I started to smile, but I did my best to hide it. When I felt like I had hid it well enough, I ran my hands through his hair, pushing all of it away from his face. "Ken and I have spent so much time working together, it's just normal for stuff like that to happen. He might come into the bathroom while I'm showering, but he's never seen me naked. We've never slept together, if that's what's bothering you."

He seemed a little taken back at first, like he wasn't expecting me to outright say it, and then he started to smirk, hands moving down my body once again to grab my backside. "You think I'm jealous?"

"Aren't you?" I leaned up to give him a small, slow kiss. "Don't worry. I'm more into the risk taking, treasure hunting sort of type."

"Oh, are you?" He leaned down and kissed me like I had just kissed him. "I know a guy like that."

I touched the side of his face and rubbed affectionately. "That's sweet of you, Sam, really, but you can tell Sully I'm not interested."

Sam shook his head like he disapproved, but there was a massive smile on his face. "You're killing me, you know that?"

"You set me up for that one." I smiled back at him, finding myself quite funny. Despite the joking, Sam was really the only one I cared for. "But you're the only one I want to be in this shower with." I moved quickly to turn off the shower and then I moved around him, pushing the shower curtain to the side and looking at him over my shoulder. "Or the bedroom. I'm not really picky."

Sam stepped out with me, stopping me from walking to the bedroom by pulling at my legs, making me wrap my arms and legs around him. It wasn't long at all until I felt my back hit the mattress. Sam's lips came soon after that.

We were both still wet, as well as incredibly naked.

It felt too good and too right. I hadn't enjoyed myself this much since Portugal. It was seven months of never feeling satisfied. Finally, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

His kisses on my neck were gentle, continuing to be gentle as he kissed downward, his warm tongue running over my chest and his big hands touching and massaging anywhere he wanted.

My hands found his hair and I tugged lightly, moaning into the air. "I missed this." I didn't remember saying it last night, so I figured I'd better get it out there.

Sam's mouth was just above my belly button when he stopped and looked up at me. "So did I." He continued to kiss me, using his hands to push my legs apart from each other. I felt his wet lips on my inner thigh. "A lot."


	5. Chapter 5

-Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Uncharted series

srsly i dont pls dont sue me pls

* * *

2

 _Venezuela_

 _12 years and 5 months ago_

I woke up early - too early, but it was too cloudy outside for me to benefit from that unfortunate event. Regardless of the weather, I still sat outside in the wee hours of the morning, watching as the sun seemed to rise somewhere behind the barrier that was the conveniently placed cloud. I sat on the small, thick slab of concrete that lined the whole village, leading to a sort of steep drop. It wasn't so steep that it concerned me, but it was steep enough to put the small wall there. Anyway, I sat there with my steaming coffee and my camera, wanting to take a couple of photos for my own pleasure.

The village was awake, but a lot quieter and calmer than it would be later that day. It was slowly warming up, but colder than usual due to the sun being hidden away. There weren't even that many clouds, but there was just that one big one that was in the way. I took pictures for a little bit, sipping on my coffee in between as I waited for the clouds to move so that I could get a better, brighter shot of the mountains.

I was in the middle of lining up a shot when a voice came from behind me.

"You really do like to live on the edge, huh, kid."

I finished taking the picture, lowering my camera as I looked over my shoulder to confirm that it was Sully. I turned back towards the mountains, bringing my camera back to my face. "It's the best spot in Venezuela, I'm convinced." I took another photo, thinking about a couple of nights ago. I looked back at him, eyebrows raised. "Unless you have a favourite spot of your own?"

Sully walked closer to me, revealing his half-buttoned shirt - not unlike all the other shirts I had ever seen him in, usually paired with a pair of dark slacks. His hair was neat, just like usual, though he did look a little tired in the face.

Up all night, perhaps?

"What did you do last night, Sully?" I asked him, swinging my leg over to the safe side of the very small wall, giving him a curious look.

Sully continued to walk closer, chuckling deeply to himself. "What exactly are you asking, Angela?"

I shrugged, averting my eyes for a moment in trying to seem as innocent as possible. "I'm just wondering if you had maybe spent any time with Malia after coming onto her in the bar a couple nights ago."

"Coming onto her? _You_ suggested it."

I shook my head, knowing that I was actually innocent that time. "I offered to introduce you, you refused and then did the rest all on your own."

"Well..." Sully seemed to consider and then concede. He nodded, a look on his face like he was somewhat proud. "Malia is a lovely woman, that's all I will say, but I did not spend last night with her."

I let out a laugh, moving my coffee closer to me as he sat down. I shook my head just a little and then I brought my legs up to be crossed in front of me. "If you didn't spend last night with your lovely lady, what did you do all night?"

"Me, Samuel, and a fantastic bottle of Brandy stayed up most of the night working our way toward a breakthrough."

I ooo'd for a short moment, earning a small smile from Sully. "A breakthrough on what?"

Over the course of the past couple of days, Sam and I did a lot of talking. There was a lot of pillow talk the last couple of nights - all about past adventures. They were insane stories that sounded straight out of a fictional book or some crazy adventure movie. I never doubted that they weren't real because you could see it all on Sam's face when he talked about it. He was so proud and excited and happy that he had all of the experiences he had.

Despite Sam letting me in on a big chunk of his life, if I asked any questions of what he was currently working on - much like in Portugal - he never gave any details. Maybe it was because I was spending too much time with Kenny, but I wanted to know so badly.

More than anything, I wanted to be able to experience the things Sam had experienced for the pictures alone. Some of the sights he talked about - ancient artifacts and old ships and statues on abandoned islands and all of these crazy things...I wanted to be able to capture those things.

Like Sam, Sully was not giving anything up. "Nice try, kid." He was unfazed by my little bit of prying but continued to tell me his plans. "Sam is finishing up packing everything we will need and then we will be heading out."

"Out where? Out of Venezuela?" I looked at Sully, only being met with raised brows. "What? Aren't either of you ever concerned for the fact that you might not come back? Where would anyone know where to start searching if you don't tell anyone?"

"Oh, we'll come back." Sam came walking up to the both of us. He was also wearing a button-up but completely unbuttoned with a shirt underneath in a more casual look. He, like Sully, looked a little bit tired, but still like he was ready to go. "What're you telling her, Sully?"

"Not much." Sully stood, him and Sam coming together just a couple feet from me. "Doesn't stop her from asking questions."

"You can't really blame me." I set my camera down, stretching my back up so that I was sitting straight. I could feel the stretch in my spine as well as the eyes of Sully and Sam. "All this talk about treasure."

They looked at each other and then Sam told Sully that the jeep was loaded, whatever that meant. Sully nodded to that and started to walk back up the street while Sam advanced toward me.

I watched him sit next to me, quickly growing impatient of his not saying anything. "You two are pretty secretive."

Sam put one of his legs over the other side, resuming to position I was previously in. "Better that than have the rug pulled out from under us."

I noticed the sun was starting to shine on everything now that the clouds were out of the way. I nodded at Sam, picking up my camera to adjust the settings for the new light. "And you think I'm going to be doing the rug pulling?"

"No," Sam said, sounding very sure. "We don't tell you anything for your -"

"Safety?" I looked up at him, knowing that I was right when he sighed lightly.

"Yes." He put his big, calloused hand on my bare leg, moving across the stone to sit closer to me. "I want you to be safe here." His hand moved quickly from my leg to my cheek, giving it a quick swipe with his finger only to land back on my leg. He smirked. "Precious cargo."

"Careful now, you're soft side is showing." When he smiled, I smiled, and the spot where he touched warmed, along with the rest of my face. I cradled my camera in my lap, leaning forward to press my lips against his cheek slowly. When I leaned away, I patted his leg and grabbed my camera again. "Very sweet, Sam, but why don't I just come along?"

Sam's brows furrowed. He shook his head a little. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

My eyes narrowed toward him, abandoning my settings on the camera to stare. "I heard." My gaze softened as I let out a breath, trying to remember to keep my back straight again. "But don't you want to remember these things, say...with photos?" Sam shook his head again and opened his mouth to speak but I beat him to it. "All the stories you've told me - the places you've been, they sound like the most beautiful spots in the whole world and you have absolutely _no_ phot -"

Sam was the one that interrupted that time, voice just as strong as mine. "I don't need photos to remember."

"Fine, then, how about photos for proof?"

"Who would I need to prove anything to?"

I shrugged, again adapting a somewhat innocent persona. "National Geographic would be interested in a story of a couple of treasure hunters."

"Uh huh." Sam nodded, a little smug. "And I'm sure they'd love to hear about all the illegal things we had to do to get said treasure."

I huffed, shaking my head and biding time to come up with something else as Sam stared at me, clearly amused. I finally shrugged my shoulders, a little defeated as I said, "Then for my sake? I've never seen ancient treasure."

"I'll tell you - from experience..." His amusement faded into a normal expression with a hint of a smile. "It's worth every effort." Any sign of a smile also faded. "But not worth your life."

"You risk _yours_."

Sam shrugged half-heartedly. "Well, I've gotten pretty good at not dying over the years."

I put my hand over his, hoping it would come off as encouraging. "Sam, come on." I turned to look at the approaching Jeep, Sully in the driver's seat. "Let me drive," I said to Sam, continuing before he could refuse. "And that's it. Let me drive you wherever you guys need to go." I watched Sam hesitate. I smiled, moving my hand from his hand to his leg. "Come on...it'll be like old times."

He blinked a couple of times and then started to shake his head. "Old times, huh?"

I got up quickly, camera in one hand and empty coffee mug in the other, almost skipping off to the jeep.

When I got close enough, Sully was getting into the passenger seat, looking at me with an amused expression. He watched me as I got into the driver's seat, tilting his head. "I hope we won't regret this."

I put the empty mug in between the two front seats and then handed my camera off to Sully as Sam got into the back. "Take care of this would you?" I got comfortable in nylon seat, tapping my foot gently against the clutch and looking down at the gear shift. "Now...which one's first again?" I quickly glanced up at Sully and Sam, their expressions making laughter come easy. My laughter died down after a couple of seconds and I pushed in the clutch, easily switching into first gear. "I'm just messing with you guys." The jeep started to move forward, down the road. "Let's go."

...

We drove down the mountain for a really long time - what felt like forever, honestly, even though I knew in reality, it was probably a couple of hours. We stuck mostly to the road that I came up on until Sam instructed me to turn off onto a road that I had assumed to be a civilian road with houses, which there was for a good stretch of the road. The houses soon disappeared as the road grew baron and more flat. Eventually, in the distance, I could see the road slowly turning into sand, along with the thick trees splitting to reveal a beach.

I parked the jeep amongst the lush greens, somewhat disguising it - that was after I had convinced Sam and Sully to let me walk along the empty beach to get more photos.

That was where we were; we were walking along the beach, walking through the thick, heavy, almost white sand. To one side of us was the ocean - blue and vast, reaching as far as the eye could see. On the other side of us were the trees - so thick and big and green that it was impossible to see through them more than ten feet.

I walked with them, stopping to take a couple of shots along the way, and then jogging to catch up. I did that for a while. I was so distracted by taking photos I hadn't realized how far we walked and when I looked back to see the trail we came from, it was nowhere in sight. And when I turned around to mention that fact to Sully and Sam, I caught them standing still, speaking in hushed tones.

I laughed instead of being offended, just because it seemed so childish. "What are you two whispering about?"

Sully took a small step back, glancing at the trees before Sam stepped forward and grabbed my attention. He walked close enough to me to reach out and grab my arm, encouraging me to turn around. "I think it's time you head back."

I resisted, pulling my arm from his grasp. "Why?"

"Oh, no -" Sam laughed, shaking his head. "No, no, no. We agreed that you wouldn't ask these kinds of questions."

I had gotten so far out of the way with them that now my already less than pure intentions were becoming harder to disguise. At that point, I was just so curious and caught up in the wonder of it all that I couldn't hide it.

"It's just..." I started out lightly, already seeing Sully starting the shake his head in the back and Sam giving me a look that told me he saw all of this coming and still hoped it wouldn't. "I've come this far already with you guys. What's the point in turning back now?"

Unimpressed and a little sweaty, Sam stared down at me. "You promised me this wouldn't happen."

"Sam." I adapted a soft tone, taking a step closer to him to quiet my voice so that only he could hear. I wanted to be honest, maybe a little vulnerable in that moment and I only wanted Sam to hear it. "I want to see what you've seen." I looked into his eyes - the eyes that have seen a million things that I didn't even know I feared not seeing until he told me. If I wasn't going to be able to explore a lost city or an abandoned pirate ship, I at least wanted to be apart of whatever this was.

"It's not what you think it is, Ang," he told me, serious in tone and face. "The treasure is only a small part of what's to come."

"You said it was worth it."

"You might not think it is."

"Can't I judge that for myself?" I was stubborn, but not usually that much. I thought maybe Sam had rubbed off on me.

Maybe he thought so too because he sighed heavily, loudly, over dramatically and then looked over his shoulder at Sully briefly before looking back at me. "You stay near one of us at all times." He turned around and started walking back toward Sully. "And for god's sake, don't touch anything."

I glanced around the baron surroundings. There was water, sand, and trees, so what was there to touch anyway? "I won't." I followed both of them into the thick trees, already confused as to how they could possibly know where they were going. "How do you guys know where you're going?"

"No more questions," Sam said to me. He sounded a little bit annoyed, but it didn't stop me from talking.

"Fine." I stayed close to them, just like I was told, constantly looking down at the ground to ensure that I wasn't going to trip and then get left behind. "Just one more. Can you tell me what it is you guys are looking for."

After Sam's couple seconds of silence, I heard Sully at the front say, "It's called The Treasure of Lima."

"Lima, like Peru? What's the story there?" A stem of large leaves smacked against my face after Sam failed to hold it out for me. I stared at Sam's back, imagining myself pushing him before I came back to reality when Sully started talking again.

"One on the main reasons lost treasure becomes lost is because someone tries to hide it and then never comes back to get it. Usually, whoever hid it, hides it pretty well."

My promise of just 'one more question' was quickly forgotten as I felt myself get almost excited at the beginning of what was going to be a great story, I assumed. "Why was this treasure hidden in the first place?"

Sam took over, speaking so smoothly and so surely, it was obvious he had not only done his research, but thought about it often. "The rulers of Peru were about to face one big revolt in 1823 and they obviously didn't want all their valuables to get taken from them, so they sent all of it off on ships with a crew to get it somewhere in Mexico to keep it safe."

"Where in Mexico?"

"Doesn't matter. It never made it there." Either Sam was done being upset with me or the exhilaration of telling of the story made him forget it for a little while because he slowed to fall into step with me, shoulder rubbing against mine as he continued to explain. "Little did the rulers of Lima know, the person they sent their treasure off with was an up-and-coming pirate, William Thompson. When the ships were far enough out to sea, him and his crew killed all the men Lima sent with them to protect the treasure."

I could barely believe what I was hearing. It seemed very made up. I suddenly looked at Sam, wondering if it _was_ all made up. "How could you possibly know all of this?"

"That stuff is all public record, baby," Sam told me, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out a very small notebook. "It's also all in Thompson's personal journal."

I stared at the small, brown, very worn-looking journal for a minute before looking to Sam. "You're fucking with me."

"I almost wish I was." He held out the journal for me to take, which I didn't hesitate to do. "A lot of the stuff that's in there is already in the public records. The only secrets in that thing was how many women he bedded along with his not-so-nice thoughts about his other pirate buddies."

"This is from the 1820's." I barely heard anything Sam said as I opened the journal, the spine of the book making a noise at every movement. I cradled it with soft hands, very carefully turning the pages as I skimmed over many Spanish words written cursively across the rotting pages. "Where did you get this?"

"You'd be surprised what's sitting in the bottom of a box on a shelf in someone's house."

"Did you know this someone?" I looked away from the book for a second to raise and eyebrow at Sam.

He just shrugged lightly, a smile working way to his face. "Like I said, it was sitting at the bottom of a box on a shelf. They won't miss it."

I handed the journal back to him, wanting to rid myself of the guilt of Sam stealing the book, along with the ancient dirt that covered it. I wiped my hands on my shorts, glancing ahead to see Sully not too far in front of us. "So Thompson kills everyone off to have the treasure for himself. I'm guessing he hides it next?"

"In his journal and in the records, it says he sailed for Cocos Island - modern day Costa Rica - and him and the crew buried the treasure on that island together. They decided to split up and lay low until they could go back for it, but of course, if we're looking for the treasure now -"

"He never made it back to Costa Rica." The adrenaline and excitement rushing through my body was almost unbearable. I wondered how Sam could seem so calm and I realized that he had been doing this kind of stuff for years and years. "So what happened?"

"Thompson and his crew got caught. Most of them got hanged for piracy, but Thompson and his first mate were spared with the promise of one thing..." Sam looked down at me as he moved his hands in a way that made me laugh. "The _treasure_." He looked forward again, still walking in perfect time with me as we headed deeper into the trees. "The Spaniards, very stupidly, took them up on the offer and sailed them back of to Costa Rica, where they easily escaped and were never seen again."

"What makes you so sure they didn't get the treasure and get the hell off of the island?"

"They had way too much treasure to get it off the island without a crew and a ship - or a couple of ships, rather."

"There was really that much?"

Sam's face had a very subtle way of sort of lighting up at the mention of some things he seemed genuinely passionate about. In that moment, I had never seen Sam look that enthralled in something - that impressed or excited or happy. "One hundred and sixty million," he said slowly, enjoying every syllable that was coming from his mouth. "That's what the treasure it estimated at today. It's gold, silver, and jewellery galore."

I took a small moment to appreciate seeing Sam that way before pointing to the journal he was in the process of tucking back into his pocket. "And you think you're going to find this gold, silver, and jewellery galore with that book?"

"No," Sam said promptly, in a hell of a lot better of a mood since the beach. "I'm going to find it with this." He pulled out what, at first, I thought was the exact same book he had in his hands moments ago, but when I looked longer and closer, I could see that the book was slightly smaller with some sort of sigil burned into the front on the flat, brown leather. I was trying to see what it was when Sam put it back in his pocket.

"What, I don't get to touch that one?"

"I know you're new to this, but it's usually best to keep your valuables close."

"What's so special about that book?"

Sam walked forward with me, the sound of his boots in the grass being the only sound for a couple of seconds before he spoke. "It's never what's on the surface with pirates. When I read that Thompson buried the treasure with his crew and then they all went their separate ways so that they could divvy it up later, I knew that wasn't true."

"How did you know?"

"Thompson was a pirate; his whole life was gold, silver, anything expensive. He never would've shared that with his whole crew, but he did need them to help him get it onto the island and hide it."

"What did he do with the crew?"

"After they helped him hide the treasure, he killed them all - all except one; his first mate, Richard Davies, _who_ -" Sam patted his back right pocket where that mysterious book was. "Wrote in his journal all about what had _really_ happened."

I had so many questions still as I tried to put the pieces together. As simple as it seemed to Sam, I couldn't put myself into the shoes of a pirate and so I had no clue of what had really happened. What I did know for sure was that Sam was talking about treasure and hiding treasure on the island of Costa Rica.

"I hate to tell you this, Sam..." I watched as he held a stem of leaves out for me, to which I smirked at him. "But you're on the wrong island."

Sam stopped, still holding the massive stem of leaves out of the way. He reached out with his free hand, grabbing my chin and adjusting it so that I was looking forward. "Not quite."

You would have never guessed that in the thick lull of trees that there would be an open space hidden somewhere in them, but there was. It wasn't that big. If it was a room, it would've probably been about thirty feet by forty feet or something, though it the space was far from a perfect square - something between a square and an oval, lined with trees all around that would make it impossible to find unless you knew exactly where you were going. The trees were so tall and the leaves so big that I was unsure if you would've been able to see from above either. Still, the sun shine through the leaves in a relaxing and beautiful way.

The ground was not dirt, but stone, I guessed, every couples inches of it having something carved into it - not words, but drawings. It was completely empty other than a slab of what I also assumed was stone standing upright in the middle of the open space. It looked about ten feet high. I couldn't really see from where I was but it looked like there was something carved into it.

I was quick to reach for my camera, brining it to my face, my fingers working to adjust for every component.

Sully chuckled, also looking around in something close to wonder. "I'll be goddamned."

"What did I tell you?" Sam walked further into the open space, arms held out as he spun around slowly. "Thompson hugged the coast until he got to Venezuela, not Costa Rica, just like Davies wrote in his journal."

Sully nodded, not hiding that he was impressed by it all. How could you not be? "Venezuela instead of Costa Rica. He gets his crew to help him hide the treasure, he kills every one off except his closest pal, and then they wrangle up a new crew to pretend to be the old one and sail out."

Sam jumped in. "Knowing full well that they'd be caught." He sighed, hands finding his hips as his eyes landed on the tall slab of stone. "They had everything planned perfectly right up to their escape. How did they mess up not getting back here to the treasure?"

I took the camera away from my face for the briefest of moments to speak. "It doesn't tell you that in Richard Davies' journal?"

Sam shook his head. "He wrote right up until they were to sail off with the Spaniards to show them to the treasure - or I guess _not_ show them to it."

"So that's what you were saying earlier -" I took another photo. "Pirates will betray anyone they need to have the treasure to as little amount of people as possible."

I hadn't noticed Sully had a cigar in his hand until I saw the smoke coming from his mouth. "That and their damn riddles."

"Riddles..." I repeated distractedly.

"Riddles, tests, traps, whatever you want to call them - they're a form of protection for their treasure, so not just anyone can come and take it." Sam mentioned, standing in front of the stone wall, where Sully and I both started to migrate to slowly. "Just in case they didn't make it back fast enough. They didn't want to go through all that trouble just to have it taken from right under their noses."

Sully stood next to Sam, the fat cigar between his fingers as he also stared at the stone wall. "Lucky for us, time was of the essence for these guys."

"We still have to figure some stuff out, but this will be an easy grab."

I placed my camera down for it to gently rest against my chest via neck strap and I glanced at the wall, then looking at Sully and Sam's backs. "Unless they planned ahead," I said, that being the first thought that came to my mind. I watched as Sully and Sam slowly turned around, both staring at me, as if I had said something either ridiculous or igneous. If it was the ladder, it didn't hurt to elaborate. "You said it yourself, Sam - these guys planned everything, so why wouldn't they plan for before hand. If they knew there was going to be a revolt and if they knew the rulers of Lima were going to want to protect their treasure, why wouldn't they come to this island and set everything up beforehand?"

Both of them stared at me for a second longer, Sam's eyes staying on mine as Sully's shifted to Sam, chuckling deeply and patting his shoulder. "How does it feel to be the clueless one?"

Sam came to, eyes disconnecting from mine, looking back at the stone. Though he did a quick glance back to me, he seemed to want to focus of the carvings on the stone wall. "Alright, well, none of that even matters if we can't figure this out."

It was a circle with a bunch of lines branching off, some long and some short. They weren't very many lines, but the carving clearly resembled a sun. "It looks like a sun."

"But what significance does that have?"

"Did he have a wife or children?" My dad used to call me his 'sunshine' when I was a little kid. Maybe it was a term of endearment for someone in his life.

"No." Or not. "The only thing Thompson loved was treasure and his ship, and that was named Mary Dear."

"What about Davies?"

Almost immediately, Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out the small journal. He opened the book and I moved closer to him, face nearly touching his shoulder as I looked at the pages. Sam kept flipping until he stopped on a page with a drawing that looked like the carving on the stone. "He used to have a small rowboat he called Sunny. Something about his childhood, I don't know."

"What, you skipped over that part?" I looked up at Sam and shrugged a little. "Pirates are people too."

The corner of his mouth twitched, his face close enough to mine to be able to catch it. "Can I quote you on that?"

"Still here."

I took a step away from Sam, looking to Sully instead. I walked around Sam's body, letting my hand graze over the hard muscles of his back as I made my way toward Sully. "What do you make of this, Sully?"

He looked at the stone and at the book in Sam's hands and then took another puff of his cigar. "I'm just the looks, darlin'."

I laughed, but Sam's response was a scoff. "Oh, uh-huh, right." Sam spent a moment looking from the book to the stone and then he placed his finger on the page and then pointed to the stone. "They're not exactly the same." He rotated the book in his hands, stopping after three turns. He held it up to the stone and I saw that every line at every length and placement was the same.

Rotating the book wasn't going to help, but how do you rotate stone? I put my hands up without even thinking first, pressing them against the stone.

"Don't touch -" Sam started to say, but I was already doing it. I pushed on the stone, the carved circle staying where it was but the part the lines surrounding the circle sunk into the stone. He sighed. "Touch anything."

I let out a breath, tilting my head in curiosity. So it was the circle that would've been the sun with all the lines around it, with the part that had all the ends of the lines on them was pushed back, creating another sunken in circle around the carved circle. It was like a puzzle.

Sam adjusted the book in his hands so that he was looking at the picture of the sun normally. He appeared beside me, reaching out and moving the sunken in circle. As he turned it clockwise, the lines started to match up closer to what the picture in the book looked like and then -

 _Click_

"Freeze." Sam's hand latched onto my wrist, looking around. "You hear that?"

I closed my eyes, listening closely to the sound of the trees. For a small second, I wondered what the hell he was talking about until I heard the rumble - or what is more, I felt it. It was clear to me it was coming from beneath us.

"Should I be worried?" Sully seemed a little wary.

"I don't think so..." Sam's hand was still tight around my wrist as we moved to stand more behind the stone. All of our eyes were trained on the ground in front of the stone as the some small rocks on it were bouncing off of it.

Almost exactly like the sun, something sunk into something else, the ground started to move and crack and lower, some parts sinking into the ground, leaving a large rectangle that looked like an open abyss from where we were standing.

Sam let go of me, taking a couple steps forward and peering into the rectangle in the ground. His tense body relaxed and he turned back to us, a smug smile on his face. "Stairs."

Sully nodded, in a very different, less confident state as he gruffly said, "Oh, good...stairs."

I walked over to where Sam was, giving me a full view of the stairs leading down into what seemed like complete darkness. I was amazed that all of that was there and we might've never known had it not been for that book. "How did they even come up with this stuff?"

Sam, beside me, observed the stairs. "Pirates will go to great lengths to hide their treasure."

"Great theatrics, you mean."

I looked over at Sully, chuckling as I did. "You don't seem so enthusiastic, Sully."

"I'm not a huge fan of hidden staircases, kid."

"And yet, you're here."

Sully took a couple of really slow steps, hand waving out as he explained. "I'm the connections, the transport, and, unfortunately, I'm also usually the funding." His eyes landed on Sam, not narrowed or accusatory, but obvious.

Sam stared back at him, eyebrows raised in amusement. "What?" He smiled. "You've never complained before."

"Lucky for you -" Sully pointed at Sam. "You're good at what you do."

Sam pointed back, quickly and firmly. "I agree." His hand fell down next to him and he walked until he was standing in front of the first step of the formerly hidden staircase. "Are we ready?"

"Well, since you've got two sets of hands -" Sully shifted onto his back foot, cigar loosely between his fingers. "I'll stand watch."

I opened my mouth to say something, probably protest or make sure he was sure or something, but Sam beat me to it.

"You sure?"

With his cigar-less finger, Sully picked up the bottom of his awful Hawaiian button-up slightly, finger tapping on a small walkie-talkie clipped to the waistband of his pants. "Channel four?"

Sam lifted his shirt as well, also revealing a small walkie-talkie. "Channel four." And then I felt Sam's big hand on my lower back, making me look at him, his eyebrows raised. "Ready?"

I looked to Sully and nodded. "See you later." Only when Sully nodded back did I start walking with Sam down the stairs. I felt nervous. I felt excited. I felt curious and insanely fortunate to be where I was. I was surrounded by history and stories. I knew Sam hoped for treasure, but getting to experience this was almost enough for me.

It was so dark.

"Watch your step and keep your eyes open."

It sounded like Sam was right in front of me so I reached out to touch him, grabbing onto a handful of his shirt. I was touching him and he was right in front of me but I could barely see him. The steps felt secure enough, but I had no idea how many of them there was, so I held onto Sam and just kept walking.

Sam breathed out loudly, saying a quiet, "Okay," right before I felt my own feet touch a flattened ground. He grabbed the hand that I had attached to his shirt with his own. "Do you have your phone for a flashlight?"

I reached into my back pocket, taking out my phone and turning the flashlight on, holding it up in front of me. It wasn't very strong, but I could see that we were in some sort room. It was all stone and the ceilings were relatively low and the air was heavy with dust. My flashlight didn't reach where the walls were, so I assumed the room was relatively big.

"Wow, this is -"

Sam hushed me quickly. He held up with hand to signal me to be quiet, as if his harsh hushing wasn't enough. "Listen."

By the time I realized it was a hissing noise, the noise had stopped. A millisecond after the hissing stopped, a torch on the wall next to me lit up, and then another one a couple feet down from the same wall. I looked to the other wall, seeing that they were mirroring each other exactly.

The room was smaller than I expected, but it remained just as stony and dusty. The fire from the torches hanging from the wall were light enough for me to put my phone away, but not quite bright enough to be able to clearly see what laid ahead of us.

Sam stayed where he was for a moment, just observing, and then he turned to me, putting his hands on the sides of my face and looking me in the eyes. "Remember to listen," he told me, speaking slowly but firmly. "If an axe is gonna swing down from the ceiling and cut you in half, you'll usually hear it first."

At the sound of that possibly, my eyes widened slightly. "Have you had that happen?"

Sam laughed somehow, even after laying out the worse case scenario. "Don't worry, Angie." His hands slid away from my face, but not before he patted my cheeks lightly. "I'll protect ya." He turned around and I wrapped my hand around his bicep, pressing up against him.

I felt safer that way.

We walked further into the room, slowly and tentatively. I listened closely, hearing nothing but our feet on the stone, our breaths in the air, and the flames lapping on the wall. The closer we walked, the harder I tried to look. It looked like blurriness of white, multiple white...things... lined up against the wall.

When we were in range to see clearly, my hand slid from Sam's arm as I felt ever hair on my arm stand up. "Oh, my god."

Those white things were skeletons - twelve of them, sat inside indents in the stone wall. They looked awful, worn down and a lot more horrifying than in movies. The skeletons themselves were not what terrified me, it was the fact that those skeletons were once people. How did they end up down here and why were they sitting there, looking like they were...waiting for us.

"It's the crew," Sam said, his reaction far from mine. I remembered this was probably not unlike anything he had seen before. "Fourteen crew for Thompson's ship, minus Thompson himself and first mate, Davies, that leaves -"

"Twelve."

There were six skeletons on one side and six on the other, separated by a symbol in the wall that looked identical to the symbol on the wall of stone I assumed was somewhere above us, but there were no lines around it indicating it had any of the same mechanisms.

Sam walked closer, running his hands along the symbol on the wall to confirm that there was nothing special about it. "It's not like the other one."

I held my camera up to my face, asking Sam, "Is that good or bad?", before snapping a couple of photos. The brief flashing of the light gave me an eerie sort of feeling and I started to feel bad. Lowering the camera again, I watched Sam take out the Davies' journal. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm just looking for something about the crew..." Sam was was using his longer fingers to flip the pages rapidly, filling the room with the sound. "Something about killing them, planning to, or leaving them behind or something. There was this one poem - here it is." He stopped on a page and started to read. "Mary Dear, Mary Dear, carry us here with our friends and our foes. Friends or foes, all men are foes if he will not hold in what he knows. We know, we know, as do our foes, who shall never see the day. They would not swear, so they stay there, with their heads turned away."

My eyes ran over all of the skeletons - the former crew of a pirate, all those years ago. "They killed them because they wouldn't swear to secrecy?"

"It was probably a little less literal than that." Sam looked to me, small journal still open in one hand.

I looked back at him, feeling unsure feelings. I didn't know what I was feeling. Guilt, maybe, for some reason. I felt just a sort of sadness for the people that were left down here in the dark for two centuries. "It's sad," I said aloud, before I could stop myself. "They worked so hard for this treasure and never got it."

Sam gave me a look, like maybe once he had felt the same feelings I was feeling, maybe when he first started doing these kinds of jobs. "Thompson and Davies didn't either, if that makes you feel better."

It didn't, but I nodded and sighed, trying to let go of whatever that feeling was regardless. "You think the poem has a connection with whatever this is?" I gestured to the very set up line of skeletons, along with the carving in the wall.

Sam looked back at the journal. "Their ship, the Mary Dear, brought them to this island...and then Davies talked about how they are their enemies because him and Thompson obviously don't trust them to keep it to themselves, or something."

"So they kill them and leave them down here in the place that they helped make."

"They would not swear, so they stay there, with their heads turned away." Sam examined the skeletons, all of them in the exact same position of staring ahead. Some of them seemed like they were looking directly at us. "Heads turned away." Sam turned to me, lips tight against each other, looking close to sympathetic. "We have to turn them away."

My brows furrowed for a small second, wondering what that meant. The thought of touching the skeletons to move them definitely was not the first thought that popped into my mind, but once it had, I blinked at him. "You're joking."

"Look, I don't know if it's right -" He was serious! "But we have to try."

I was adventurous, I thought, and very willing to try new things and travel to new places, often enjoying myself. I would not have called touching really old skeletons adventurous as much as I would've just called it _fucking insane_.

"Are you fucking insane?"

"Ang, I don't know how to go about this, but I need you to do it with me." He was tucking the journal back into his back pocket when he walked toward me, holding his hands out to touch my arms gently. "Humour me?"

I took a big girl breath, eyes meeting Sam's in compliance. He nodded slightly and I mirrored his movements of walking to the farthest skeleton from the symbol on the wall. We were standing as far apart as we could get, Sam at the far left, me at the far right, each of us in front of our own skeleton.

"Ready?"

I looked at the skeleton in front of me, all of those feelings from earlier returning. I felt my hand twitch as well as myself opening my mouth, almost to apologize to the skeleton. I caught myself, instead saying, "Yeah." I tried not to think as both of my hands touched either side of the skull, turning the head to look to its left, my right, away from the symbol on the wall. It was harder than I expected, but didn't take too much strength. As soon as the head was in position, I pulled my hands away quickly, wiping centuries of dust on my pants before I could think not to.

"You alright?"

I looked over at Sam, who looked over at me, seeming eager, somewhat concerned, and very ready to move on. His skeleton was looking to its right, his left, and away from the symbol on the wall. I let out a breath, nodding just barely. "I'm fine."

"Okay. Again."

We both did that four more times, in almost perfect unison. Each time felt the same as the last, not worse but not better and just as grim. Finally, we stood close-ish together, each of us in front of the last two skeletons that still looked forward. With one last fateful turn of two skeletons head, Sam and I stepped backwards, coming together right in front of the symbol on the wall.

We waited.

For a couple of seconds, I questioned everything I had just done. Was it all for nothing? And then a low rumble started and became louder and louder, dusting spouting out from the wall in front of us - so much that I had to close my eyes and mouth. When I opened my eyes, Sam was already a couple of steps in front of me.

"Flashlight," he said to me, sounding distracted.

I pulled out my phone, turning on the flashlight as I walked through the dusty air. The symbol was gone and in its place was an opening in the wall, shape resembling a doorway and also acting like a doorway to another room. I shone the light from my phone into the room. It was small and completely empty.

Sam and I both walked into the room, seeing another symbol on the wall.

I sighed, letting go of the fear of breathing in ancient dust. "Another puzzle?"

"Pirates and puzzles. Riches and riddles," Sam said, like someone had been saying that to him his whole life. "Can't have one without the other."

I shone my flashlight at the wall. "Looks like -" I got distracted by the feeling of the ground moving underneath me, though Sam didn't seem to notice, as his eyes were still glued to the symbol. I shone my flashlight at the ground instead.

"Hey -" Sam started to say, probably annoyed by my terrible flashlight skills.

Neither of us had the time, as the ground came out from under me, the stone pieces falling away from one another, opening a hole in the ground just big enough for me to completely fall through. Both of us yelled as I fell through the air. In a millisecond, I had convinced myself that if I died right then and there, I would've been happy with how I had lived my life, but it seemed like I blinked once and I was feeling another ground.

I landed on my feet first, then rolled forward for a second or two before coming to a stop. I felt the ache in my ankles and legs- not terrible, but not great, and my shoulder, which had slammed pretty hard against the ground.

"Angela!" Sam yelled for me.

I opened my eyes, the dust still settling around me in the darkened space. Amazingly enough, my phone was still clutched in my hand, lighting a couple feet in front of me as I laid in the dust. I squinted, trying to see anything but darkness.

"Ang!"

I realized that Sam was looking down into a dark hole that I had just disappeared into. I started to sit up, groaning to myself at the ache before yelling back, "I'm fine!" I sat up fully, wiping any dirt from my face.

"Coming down!"

I sat for a couple of longs seconds before a shape shaped like Sam grew closer. He stepped into the view of my flashlight, confirming that it was indeed him, and not my initial thought of undead pirate-zombie. I gratefully took his hand when extended to me. "Was that supposed to happen?"

Sam pulled me up in one strong motion. "I don't think so. Pirates like their games, but they usually don't account for stuff like erosion." His brows suddenly furrowed unevenly for a long moment as he looked me over. It was a couple of seconds before he spoke again. "Are you okay?"

I patted my pants, watching the dust puff out from them. I didn't want to give Sam any impression that I was in regret. Maybe I was a little freaked out. Could you blame me? But I wasn't really regretting anything. It was unlike anything I had experienced and it would've make for fantastic photos. That thought made my heart stop as I picked up and inspected my camera. "Oh no."

"Jesus, Ang, you could've died." Sam was watching me look at my camera with the same love and care that you would a child. He was not too impressed.

"Well..." I started calmly, letting myself relax slightly after discovering my camera was completely fine, if not a little dirty. "If it comes down to either one of us, I want you to save the camera."

Sam was already turning around. "Don't tempt me." He was walking, and as I followed behind, I noticed that this was some sort of underground cove or cave of some sort. The air felt less dusty and more damp - a little bit more refreshing.

Sam was walking quicker than I was and I struggled to keep up. "What are you thinking now?"

"I think we skipped a step when you fell through up there."

"Well, if this was all part of Thompson and Davies' plan, there's got to be a way out close enough."

"No way outs yet," Sam said to me. "We're so close to the treasure. I can feel it."

I kept the flashlight as steady as I could while weaving and avoiding the uneven ground at my feet as I tried to keep up. "Is your sixth sense tingling?" I teased.

Sam barely glanced over his shoulder, offering me a stale, "You're hilarious."

I smiled for a moment, almost falling into step with him. "You've been doing this a long time, Sam," I said to him. He had been, and so I wondered, if he had to go through stuff like this every time, why did he do it? "Why do you keep doing it? I mean, the puzzles and riddles and traps - I know you said it was worth it, but -"

"It is."

I watched him for a moment. He continued to walk, determined and unwavering. His face was set, eyes looking forward. I watched him until felt my foot catch on something and I stumbled a little, feeling Sam's hand on my arm. I nodded. "Thanks." When he gave a curt nod back and turned away, I grabbed his arm quickly. "Wait."

He turned to me, willing to listen at least, though he seemed a little impatient. "What?"

Thinking about how Sam had to get that book to make any of this possible made me also think about how hard that must've been. Coming out to Venezuela, solving riddles, touching skeletons - and I was sure this wasn't the worst of it. Why was he still doing this stuff?

"Why do you keep taking these jobs?"

He knew he wasn't going to be able to give me a half-ass answer, so he turned to me fully, the impatience leaving him as he sighed. "Because I want to," he said, the corners of his lips upturning. "Because no one else could do it."

I titled my head, eyes narrowing. "Sam, I'm serious."

"So am I." His smirk faded and his shoulders relaxed, but the soothing air always surrounding him stayed. "I have a purpose when I do this stuff. I was made for this. I don't know what else I would do. There's nothing else I _want_ to do."

Treasure hunting made Sam feel like he had a purpose in life. I wanted to tell him that he was more than that, but the fact that he was saying it proudly made me believe it wasn't something that made him sad, but rather something that made him happy. Sam was happy and I was satisfied with that answer.

"Okay." I nodded, holding my phone up the see what was in front of us. "Let your spidey sense lead the way then."

Sam just shook his head, turning away to hide the smile as he started walking again. "We really are close."

I kept walking, looking down to avoid a giant rock in my path. I walked with Sam for a couple of minutes in near silence before saying, "How close do you think?"

Sam suddenly held out his arm, catching me with it. "Pretty damn close."

I shone the flashlight ahead at four, large wooden trunks to sitting on the ground, looking almost as if they were waiting.

I felt alarmed at hearing a thumping, rhythmic and right in my ear. I almost said something until I realized that the thumping was me - my heart beating so intensely that I thought it was in the room with us. "You don't think -"

"Oh, I think." Sam was kneeling in front of one of the trunks, pressing his hands on the lid and pushing. He groaned loudly, the lid not budging. "Come on," he said to himself, pushing once again. "Ang?"

I put down my phone, facing up so that we had some light still. I kneeled down beside him, pressing my hands onto the lid as well, waiting for his count to push, which we did. The wood sounded like it was cracking in a couple of places and then the lid swung open hard from the force, slamming on the backside of the trunk with a loud thud.

I felt my heartbeat in my ear again - along with in my fingers, toes, and throat. It was a trunk full of small golden object, some jewelry, some coins, other goblets and many more. I quickly picked up my phone, shining it into the trunk and momentarily blinding myself and Sam from the shine that came off. I shook my head, almost at a complete loss for words. "Wow."

Sam had a couple of his own. "Holy shit." He looked at me, the pride and excitement and everything in between resting in his eyes and on his face. "We got it."

I was lost in this new feeling. I didn't know how to do anything, except reach for my camera and start to shoot.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Uncharted series

srsly i dont pls dont sue me pls

* * *

3

 _Venezuela_

 _12 years and 5 months ago_

I folded the shirt over again, making sure the sides were mostly lined up and then I put it on top of all of my other clothes in my suitcase, pushing it down to flatten everything out. I moved to the open drawer, got another piece of clothing and did the same thing over again.

It was a mindless action. I didn't have to use my brain. I had packed and unpacked for so many trips at that point, my hands just did it automatically. Also, I had plenty of other things on my mind.

Sam. Sully. The treasure.

I thought I was maybe in shock a little bit after finding all of that treasure. Even as Sam and Sully were hoisting it out of there and getting it onto the jeep, I was not doing too much. For them, it seemed like just another day of treasure - no big deal. For me, it was finding something someone had hidden almost two centuries ago. And not just something - pirate treasure, and millions of dollars of it.

After we had made it all to the jeep, the three of us started to talk logistics, or really, Sam and Sully did and I listened. They said the majority of it would go to the person who employed them for the job, and the rest would be split among the three of us. I insisted that I didn't want any, but Sam and Sully told me not to worry.

Worrying about getting caught wasn't even the thing first and foremost in my mind; it was the thought of taking something that, really, didn't belong to me. I knew it was dumb - it had been years and years and years since the Thompson and Davies hid it, but I couldn't bring myself to _want_ it. It was so much money - too much!

What would I have done with it anyway? I didn't know the first thing about the process of selling something like ancient treasure. I was sure Sam and Sully would've filled me in if I asked, but I didn't want to know.

I didn't want to know. I didn't want the treasure. I got the one thing I wanted and that was a bunch of photos.

That was pretty well all I did since getting back from that little trip was look at the photos over and over again, reliving every moment- the glorious and the frightening. Photos were truly all I had wanted from the experience. I could look at those photos and remember everything. The treasure might've been worth a lot, but to me, the photos were priceless.

"Angela?"

I stopped packing, turning to face Kenny in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Almost ready? Malia said we could catch a ride with her, and she might be here any minute." Kenny had been packed since extremely early that morning, being the obsessive worry-wart he was, so of course he would check to make sure I was even packing at all.

Kenny seemed eager to get back to the Washington office. I was not.

I looked out the window for a long moment. It was too beautiful to leave and yet...

Kenny's eyebrows raised, probably wondering if I was listening to anything he was saying. "Angela."

To ease him, I looked at him and nodded. "Justing finishing up."

Maybe he was annoying, but he was not stupid. He sensed my apprehension, walking further into the room to get closer to me. "Maybe we'll come back one day and do another story."

"What, so you can panic again?"

"I did not panic!" Kenny insisted, quick to the defence. I laughed and he shook his head, somewhat accepting as he passed me a shirt from my drawer to fold. "It was a good article. It was a good article, right?"

I knew why he was asking; because he was Kenny. But it was pointless. We had already handed in the final draft. It was out of our hands. All we had to do was pack up, go home, and get ready for whatever we got handed next.

Again, to ease his nerves, because I was such a good coworker, I smiled and nodded. "It's a good article, Ken."

He sighed - the first relaxed gesture I had seen from him from the past couple of days. "Thank you."

Any sign of Ken being relaxed disappeared the second there was a knock at the door. Kenny's shoulders tensed and he looked at me, to my suitcase and then to me again. "That must be Malia. Hurry up and finish packing."

I watched him run off to the front door and I continued to pack, picking up the speed slightly. I didn't want to make Malia wait, but I was hoping, somehow it wasn't her. To my weird luck, my hopes came true.

Kenny appeared in the doorway again, gesturing behind him to the front door. "It's that Sam guy."

I stopped packing, hands falling to my sides, feeling suddenly sweaty. I quickly wiped them against my jean covered thighs, walking toward Kenny and the doorway, giving him a thanks on the way past. When I got outside, it was Sam standing in front of the house, leaning casually against the jeep. The jeep had a couple of duffel bags in it, with what I assumed was Sam and Sully's clothes. The back of the jeep was covered in a tarp. I think I could've guessed what was in there.

Sam's hair was pushed back from him face, falling into a natural flow. He was wearing clothes so similar to what I always saw him in that I wondered if he owned more than five shirts. He looked like he had gotten a lot of sleep.

He smiled when he saw me, pushing himself off of the jeep. "There she is."

"You look happy."

"What's not to be happy about?" Sam walked toward me, but his gaze lingered longingly at the treasure clearly hidden underneath that tarp. When his eyes finally met mine, there must've been some kind of expression on my face. "What? Why the frown?"

I didn't know _that_ was the expression I had on my face, but when I paid attention, it totally was. I quickly fixed my face, switching into something more neutral. I spoke honestly - from the heart, if you will. "I'm just not ready to leave."

Sam chuckled, whole-heartedly and deep, like usual. "I'm sure you have more adventures ahead of you."

It had nothing to do with work, really. Sure, Venezuela had a part of my heart, but I was most upset about not knowing when I would see Sam and Sully next. Maybe Sam had a part of my heart too. If that was the case, I wasn't keen to admit it.

Instead, I said, "Yeah," with a sigh, hands finding my hips as my shoulders relaxed, looking around at the sunny street. "You and Sully are taking his plane?"

"Uh-huh."

I nodded. "Fly safe."

Sam, in that annoyingly handsome way, smirked at me. "That's it?"

I felt myself start to smile. "What else is there?"

Sam took a couple of steps closer to me. "We have important matters to discuss." When he got close enough, I thought he was leaning in. He was, but not to do what I thought he was going to do. He leaned in close, lips inches from mine as he whispered, "Your cut."

I watched him lean away and I did the same. I didn't have to think about it, I already knew what I was going to say. "I don't want it."

"Ang," he said, the same tone as when I told him I didn't want it the first time - somewhat in disbelief. "You don't have to be the saint, all right? No one's gonna judge you here."

I appreciated that, but I still shook my head. "Really, I can't take it. I don't want to take it. I got everything I need -" I almost reached up and patted my chest, where my camera usually hung, but I remembered I had already packed it away. "On my camera."

"Are you sure?"

I shrugged lightly, nodding to Sam. "Yeah." I thought back on the entire thing, chuckling mostly to myself. "I didn't do much anyway, except for fall through the floor."

Sam chuckled also, tilting his head and considering. "Hey, you falling through the floor was a big help."

"And _you_ didn't want me to come," I teased.

His smile faded a little as his tone grew serious. "You handled yourself okay out there."

"Thanks, Sam." I looked at him and all of the marks on his arms that would be there forever, just from doing this type of work. It was a part of him forever, and he showed no signs of stopping. I didn't know how he did it. "I don't know how you do it. There's a lot of good and a lot of bad."

He looked down briefly and then looked up again. His expression was softer. "I guess I love it so much, the bad doesn't seem bad."

I felt myself move closer to him, my hand finding his arm, rubbing comfortingly. "You're damn good at it." I thought about how skilled Sam was and just how unskilled at treasure hunting I was. My hand slid off his arm. "I think it's more yours and Sully's thing than mine. I'll stick to the picture taking."

Sam sighed, nodding slowly but firmly. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small, rectangular piece of paper. "Well, if you change your mind about that -" He held out the paper to me. "You can call me."

I tried to hold back the smile, cooly taking the paper from his hands and nodding. "You sure you want to do this?" I asked jokingly. "I might actually call you. Maybe even more than once."

Sam hummed. "Sounds awful." He moved in close before I could say anything else. His big hands came up and held my face as he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine, to which I happily responded.

His lips moved against mine in the most satisfying way and I put my arms around him, hand over his hair. "Sam," I said quietly, our mouths parting for only a second. When he hummed again in response, I pulled away, eyes finding each other. With my arms still around his neck, I asked, "You think you'll ever make it to Washington?"

"Oh, yeah," Sam said. I don't know if he was headed for reassuring, but it sounded joking. "I've never seen the Whitehouse, you know."

I chuckled at that, pressing my body against his again as I leaned forward, lips pursed.

"Angela!"

Still wrapped around each other, I looked to my far right, seeing Kenny standing next to a small car, Malia outside of the car, leaning against it and Sully next to her. They looked like they might've been there a while.

Kenny called to me again, tapping the watch on his wrist. "Our flight."

Sam groaned - quietly for only me to hear. "What a ray of sunshine he is."

I pressed my lips to Sam's tanned cheek and then leaned away completely, not thinking about it too much. If I did, I would've never left. I backed away, figuring it'd also be easier to leave if there was a good amount of distance between us. "He is right, though. I gotta go."

Sully walked over to the two of us. "We better head out soon too," he said to Sam. He then looked at me. "You actually gonna give the poor man a phone number?"

I held up the small piece of paper. "No need to worry, Sully."

He nodded and then let out a big huff, looking to Sam, the two of them not saying anything. Sully barely glanced at me to say, "See you around, kid." He walked over to the jeep, leaning up against the door to the front seat.

"All right." Sam sighed and nodded, gaining my attention once again. He shifted onto his back foot and looked me over quickly and one last time, saying a surprisingly soft and sweet, "Have a safe trip."

"Back at you." I backed away more, toward the house behind me, so that I could zip up my suitcase and go. I glanced at the jeep one last time and at that tarp. "Good luck with that, Indiana Jones."

Sam patted the tarp with a gentle hand. "I've got it." He stared at me for a long moment.

Why was this goodbye seeming to go by so fast?

I gave on last quick nod, heading back into the house.

As I zipped up my suitcase, I heard the sound of Sam and Sully's jeep start up and drive off in a matter of seconds. Just like that, they were gone. I didn't know when I would see Sam or Sully again, but it was over. We had parted and it was done and I had nothing else to dread, so I zipped up my suitcase, double checked that I had everything and then walked out to Malia's small car.

"All set?" Malia asked from the driver's seat looking up in the rearview to look at me.

I nodded, glancing at Kenny in the front seat. "You got everything?" When he nodded, I nodded again to Malia. "All good."

She started up the car and we started to drive.

I sunk into my seat, the exhaustion from the entire trip washing over me. I leaned back and closed my eyes, ready to welcome sleep.

In a matter of a couple of minutes, I had my neck craned awkwardly, which would hurt when I woke up, and I had taken my shoes off to make myself more comfortable. And in my closed hand in my lap I had a small, rectangular piece of paper.

At least we were leaving off better than Portugal.

...

 _Washington_

 _12 Years and 3 Months Ago_

The office was really not the quiet, super calming environment I thought offices were before I started working in one. Or at least the Washington office for National wasn't. There was always someone calling for someone or someone running/jogging somewhere or phones ringing quite a lot.

It wasn't hectic, but it was definitely hard to take a nap, which I guess was good, since you weren't supposed to.

Even in the office, though, I felt my eyelids drooping as I stared at my computer screen. I moved my mouse with one hand, using my other to reach for the mug full of coffee on my desk. I drank it, savouring every sweet moment, hoping that any second it would kick me into overdrive.

Kenny was a form of caffeine himself and lucky for me, he was walking over to my desk. He was wearing a white button up again and his hair was slicked back to perfection, as usual. When he reached my desk, he, like usual, didn't wait for me to acknowledge him before he started talking.

"Did you get the email about Guatemala?"

"I did," I answered. I had read it that morning, and replied that morning. I thought I forgot to CC Kenny, which was probably the reason he was at my desk right now. "I thought I CC'd you on my reply email."

"You didn't," Kenny said, not seeming particularly upset about it, just a little annoyed. "What did you say?"

I chuckled, picking up my coffee cup again. "What do you think?"

Kenny started to smile, in that subtle sort of way he always did. "Good, then we're on the same page. I was thinking we could head into one of the board rooms to really hone down and get some research done. Tess will probably want a portfolio by the end of the week."

I was already logging out of a bunch of stuff, having the same idea. I nodded, grabbing my coffee cup, pad of paper, and laptop, starting to stand. "Let's go then."

Kenny and I walked through the office to head to one of the board rooms when something caught my eye. Up on a moving corked board were some of the pictures I had taken in Venezuela.

It had been about a month, so it was strange for the pictures to still be up on the board, but it did happen sometimes.

I stopped where I was, taking a moment to sigh as I looked at the photos. They were all so beautiful. Just looking at them brought me back to those moments of sitting in the bar, sitting in the sun outside, hiking some of the most amazing trails in the world...rolling around in the hotel room with Sam...discovering ancient ruins with Sam and Sully...

I talked to Sam a bit, but not as much as I thought either of us would've liked. We were both busy, but it seemed we were never not busy at the same time. Any time I was working, he was free. Anytime he was working, I was free.

I was starting to wonder if the universe was against us, even though I didn't believe in any of that stuff. But I knew, staring at those photos and remembering all those moments, why we kept calling each other even if it meant just leaving a voicemail.

I missed Sam. I missed Sully. I didn't miss touching old, scary things, but I missed being with them and witnessing the discovery of ancient treasure. it was a special moment that I often relived in my mind and by looking at my camera.

I always uploaded my photos from my camera onto a drive and gave them to my boss and then deleted everything, which meant that, between jobs, there was always no photos on my camera. I left out all of the photos that went off the beaten path from the drive and kept them on my camera, making them easy access to me. I took advantage of that often, sitting down somewhere for a while to look at them.

"Angela?"

I looked over at Kenny, waiting in the doorway of one of the boardrooms. I took one last glance at the photos and then walking into the room, sitting down at one of the plush chairs, clicking my pen, and opening my laptop. Kenny's movements mirrored mine as we sat across from each other, typing away on our laptops.

"Tess said we'll probably get a full page for this," Kenny told me, after a short couple minutes of silence.

"Why?"

"People love this kind of stuff," he said, not sounding thrilled about writing a fluff piece. His eyes fell on me as I raised my eyebrows at him."It's supposed to be fun."

I had to chuckle at his unimpressed face and then I went back to looking at my laptop, at the email. When I said I read it...that might've been overkill. I skimmed, but I caught the gist of it being a story, or a legend. The Legend of the three sisters or something like that.

"What is the legend, even?" I asked.

Kenny finished typing whatever he was typing and then he clocked here and there, stopping eventually. I watched his eyes go back on forth while looking at his screen like he was reading, but he spoke in what sounded like his own words. "It's basically about these people that lived hundreds of years ago - a tribe. The chief of the tribe was supposed to choose a bride from these three women he was apparently so in love with." Kenny took a moment to sigh. Whatever the opposite of a romantic was - that was what Kenny was. "But the gods they worshipped believed indecisiveness was a sin, so they punished the chief by turning him into a mountain." A bit harsh. "And the three women he left behind were so heartbroken that they prayed every single night that they would turn into mountains too." Kenny turned his laptop toward me, a google image on the screen of one big mountain, and three other mountains huddled up beside it.

I tilted my head as habit of observing. I started to smile, brows furrowing a little. "That's kind of sweet, I guess."

"Call it whatever you want, but if my ex-girlfriend turned into a mountain, I wouldn't want to be one too." Kenny physically shuddered. "Stuck there for my whole life."

I laughed again, straightening my laptop in front of me. "And the people in Palin actually believe it?"

Kenny shook his head, thinking aloud. "If it has anything to do with love and sacrifice, I find people will believe anything."

I shrugged, figuring the role of the optimist would be left to me. "Maybe it's a true story." After the look Kenny gave me, I quickly explained. "Not the turning into mountains part, I just mean, indecisiveness and the very real consequences of being that way. Legends are always just stories. It's about the lesson behind it."

Kenny looked at me for a long moment, eyes narrowed slightly, but understanding. "I see. I could run that idea past Tess."

I picked up my mug to drink, realizing it was empty. I pushed my chair back and stood, telling Kenny, "It wasn't a pitch, Ken, it was the truth."

"Boldly spoken."

I shook my head, leaving the room, making the familiar walk to the coffee machine in the staff kitchen. I was just a second into pouring the dark, hot, wonderful liquid into my mug when my boss - kind of - called my name from behind me.

"Angela," she said. I turned around, resting against the counter and humming in response. "Got someone here for you."

It happened every once in a while, but not that often. Most of the times it was my sister or mother, coming in for some incredibly embarrassing and overbearing reason - usually just my mother, though. Sometimes it was a soon-to-be client, but that was really, really rare.

"Did they ask for me by name?"

"Yeah."

I shook my head a little. "How does that even happen?"

Tess smiled easily. She was way less stiff than any other boss in any other department that I had ever met. I liked her. She said to me, "We do put your name in the corner of your photos, you know. Maybe he liked your energy." She walked over to me, her muddy boots on the kitchen tile. "He's got a story to tell, and an interesting one at that."

I scoffed, swallowing my coffee before talking. "Usually when people say that they have an interesting story, it's usually something like..." I thought for a moment. "My dog understands the alphabet or...I've collected sand from every beach in the world."

"That second one's not half bad, actually."

"You know me -" I told her, looking over and giving my best smile. "Just full of great ideas."

Tess laughed along with me, the stress surrounding the both of us dissipating. For a couple of moments, we forgot about work, but it didn't last too long. "He's in conference room number three."

"I can't," I said awfully quick, coming up with a sad excuse a little too late. "Ken and I are really on to something."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

I shrugged a little, biting the inside of my lip. "You know, like a really modern take on the effects of story-telling through generations and how it - it -" I huffed, handing my coffee mug off to Tess, who gladly took it. "This better not be a dog-alphabet situation."

Tess shrugged, taking a sip from my coffee mug. "Hey, that idea's not awful either."

I tried not to laugh. I didn't want to give her that one. I walked down, past the desks, reaching down flip my employee badge around my neck so that my credentials were facing out. I learned that one from Ken.

The third conference room was smaller than the first, bigger than the second, and had more windows than both. For me, it was the nicest conference room because it felt the closest to being outside.

I looked through the glass door, seeing the man facing the windows. I walked inside, already talking from the second I opened the door. "Hey, I'm Angela. You must be..." I trailed off, letting the door close behind me as the man turned around.

Sam turned toward me, that ever so handsome, incredibly familiar, always-there smirk on his face. "Don't tell me you forgot about me."

I smiled and took a small step forward, becoming fully aware of the fact that the room was separated from the rest of the office by glass walls. I still smiled, but I didn't make any sudden rash movements, even though I desperately wanted to. "Sam, was it?"

Apparently, Sam didn't care enough. He smirk broke into a smile matching mine as he took a couple of big steps forward, wrapping his arms around me. Once I did the same, I felt his lips near my ear, saying, "It's good to see you, Ang."

"Back at you." When he pulled away, my hands stayed on him, feeling over his arms as I looked him over. He looked the same, maybe even better. He had no cuts or apparent injuries. "You look good."

"Oh, stop," Sam said to me, but it was anything but bashful. He looked like he loved hearing me say that. I shook my head a little in an effort not to smile as Sam looked around at the office. "So this is the building where you work, huh? Impressive."

"Yeah." I sighed and nodded, looking at the room as well, just so I wasn't staring at him the whole time. My eyes did, of course, find their way back to him. "What brings you here? Did you run out of treasures to hunt?"

"On the contrary -" He moved to sit down on one the black, leathery chairs on the table and I followed. His t-shirt and button up were so casual in comparison to the professional setting. It only made me stare at him more. "I thought about what you said a couple months ago, and I'll take you up on your offer."

My eyebrows rose. "Oh?" I chuckled, leaning back in the chair. "I can't say I remember offering anything."

"National Geographic would be interested in a story of a couple of treasure hunters," Sam said to me. It sounded like word-for-word what I had said to him in Venezuela. Huh. He had a good memory.

So did I. "We can't take you on if it's all illegal."

"This job is all legal, baby."

"Did you say _all_ legal or _il-_ egal?"

" _All_ legal."

"I'd love to take your word for it -" He laughed and I continued. "But we're gonna need proof of that - papers."

"And I can get them to you," he told me. "And then we can discuss a price." He leaned back in his chair, satisfied what what offer he had put on the table.

We stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other. We hadn't seen each other for what felt like what might've been too long. It was nice just to see him, to talk to him in person, and just the thought of working together on a job had me excited. But there was no guarantee that this would even be my job.

I shook my head, sitting up straight again as my open palm landed on the table. "This really isn't department - the legalities and the negotiating. I'm just the photographer. You should talk to someone else." I stood.

Sam stood with me, catching my wrist quickly, firmly. "Those people are always boring." He tugged me a little bit closer. "I wanted to see _you_."

I took my hand from him, feeling the intense heat roll of my body at him just standing so close to me. I looked up at him, his lips right in front of me. I tried to look away, finally succeeding. "What makes you think National will even take your offer?"

Sam's voice was low and a little quieter, due to the fact that we were standing so close. "Well, it's one hell of an offer."

"Aren't you gonna tell me, then?" I felt his chest touch mine.

Sam leaned in close, nose just barely touching mine before he pulled away a little. He smiled and I felt his big hand press into my back. "How about over dinner?"


End file.
